His Fallen Angel
by Hazel Nut Coffiee
Summary: One night while the Undertaker was out looking for guest, he finds a fallen angel, Sapphira. She wakes up in his parlor with no memory of who or what she is, only knowing her name and no idea what the human relam is like. She grows accustomed to his life and to him, including the underworld. Will she revel in the darkness or will her past come back and consume her soul?
1. His Fallen Angel

So, I started to watch Black Butler once again and this time around; I fell in love with the anime. It may have been the fact the last time I had watched it was the night I went into labor and just never got passed the third episode. Now that two years has passed and I finally got around to finally watching it again.

In the beginning I had planned on making this a full on SebastianXOC, but after watching a feel YouTube clips again and again with the Undertaker…well, no need to say anything else. My idea flew out and another started to develop. This is a UndertakerXOC with a hint of a DiedrichXOC, but nothing more, nothing less. This will actually take place the year the Ciel was born and will go on from there. This is will become a two part story; but it would take all the fun out of the story if I tell you when it will drop off and pick back up in a squeal. ^_~

Now, on with the story!

I don't own Black Butler, only my OC

* * *

 _Winter chills her lovely face_

 _beneath the moonlight glow_

 _fallen from the midnight sky_

 _an angel in the snow_

 _Kneeling down to clear the way_

 _I lift her from the ground_

 _Gently in my soft warm hands_

 _She never makes a sound_

 _Warming her with hope tonight_

 _And feeding her with love_

 _Hand her all my precious faith_

 _And prayed to God above_

 _Fallen angel clings to me_

 _Then rises in the night_

 _Turns around and smiles at me_

 _Now vanishes from sight_

 _Winter chills my barren soul_

 _Beneath a lover's moon_

 _In my heart I feel the love_

 _A lilting angel's tune_

* * *

 _January 11_ _th_ _, 1875_

The snow gently fell across the city of London, with many seeking shelter from the chilly air and cold flakes that would hit parts of their uncovered body. No one in their right mind would be out in the cold winter day, unless you wanted to be stupid enough to go drink to celebrate for one of many reasons, get beyond drunk, and wonder out into the freezing temperatures. They may wrap up to fight off the bitterness, but the moment they start to drink, layer after layer of protection will start to come off. Their body temperatures heat up, extra clothes become a nuisance, and they start to feel like they are invincible. In their minds, they think that the alcohol will keep them warm from the elements, all while they have a good time.

It's true, they will feel warm from the blissful sensation and feel as if they don't need a coat.

But…

That's the furthest thing from the truth—alcohol will make their body colder. Alcohol makes the skin feel warm, but it isn't protecting them from the cold. It will take a few drinks, but when it does happen, the alcohol will cause their blood vessels to dilate, moving warm blood closer to the surface of the skin.

Those who will lose themselves to the alcohol will leave thinking they are invisible. Unstoppable. They could conquer the heavens and hell themselves. Nothing would get in their way. If so, they would tackle it head on.

Only one thing in life that they could tackle head one, yet it was only thing they would never be able to conquer. There is an end to everything in life. End to a story. End to a play. End to a relationship. End to a road. End to a conversation. End to a thunderstorm. End to a fire. End to a Dynasty. End to a love. End to a life.

They wouldn't realize that their fate was set in stone from the moment they were born—the only thing that will stop them tonight is death itself.

Most of those who were stupid enough to do such was finding themselves being subdue by the night's harsh cold temperatures, causing many patrons to die across the center from hypothermia. It was their stupidity that had led to their death; free from the harshness of their daily life by a liquid that would taint their mind and cloud their judgement, only to be brought to death by their actions.

It was also this time of year that kept mortician's very busy and brought in a lot of money. For one mortician; this was his favorite type of year. He was known across all of London and very famous for how beautiful he makes the bodies look, but he was also famous for another reason. He was very insane and was always laughing, even as he worked with his guest's families. They loved his work, yet they hated his personality. He was very fond of death, loved his guest more than anything, and always had a knack for making people uncomfortable. Be it that he scared them by his insane laugh and morbid sense of humor, or his fondness for lurking in the shadows and scaring people by either jumping out of coffins or talking to them without them being able to see him.

No one knows his true name or the story behind his life.

They only know him by one, simple name.

 _The Undertaker._

The night was as harsh as ever as a shadow lurked the city for any bodies left to be frozen by the lips of the cold dark night. A lone figured walked through the cold dead of night looking for the frozen bodies of people who had been caught out in the snow storm they had earlier that day. At least two feet of snow had fallen on the city of London in the past two days, most of the snow hitting earlier that morning. His tall lean figured was cloaked in black robes with a pair of black boots with sliver buckles poking out from underneath his robe. A gray scarf strapped across his chest and knotted by the hips. A band of prayer beads hanged around his neck as a chain of seven mourning lockets were secured around his hips. His eyes hidden behind the bangs of his long gray hair, with the top of his head being adorn with an old looking top hat with a long tail that reached his hips. When the gentle glow of the moonlight would hit his face, a scar could be seen running diagonally across his face over his nose, a wide grin lurked on his face.

"Hehehe, oh how many foolish drunks will I find tonight~" He sung as he skipped along the snow-covered cobblestone.

The night before he had found at least three drunks completely frozen, it had taken the entire day for them all to thaw out so that he could work on them. Sadly, people that died from nature causes like that were not his favorite customers. They required little work and were done within a short matter of time. All they needed was a little make-up so they looked normal and that was it. It was the ones that came in mangled up and torn into pieces that he loved the most. His grin grew bigger as he thought about the beauty he could create while stitching them up and using a wide-arrange of different types of make-up.

"Oh, how I wish I could find a canvas to make beautiful, hehe~"

Scouting a few more alley ways, the only thing he could find were animals frozen from the cold. Nothing he could do with those, as he wasn't too keen on bringing dead animals back to his parlor. He loved the smell of his customers, but the smell of dead animals was a whole different matter, one that he didn't care for. Checking down another ally, his face lit up like a kid who entered a candy shop.

A man sat up against the wall, his head slumped over into his chest. His form was covered in at least inch of snow.

"Ah, it seems I've found my next guest~" Creeping up to the body, he poked his fingernail into the man's cheek, making sure the man was dead, and not alive somehow. To someone walking by, it was very apparent that the man was dead, but when her poked his fingernail, his flesh was still soft and felt a small amount of warmth coming from his cheek. Digging his hand into his robe, he pulled out a mirror and held it up under the man's nose, watching a small part of the mirror fog up silent. Which meant only one thing to the poor mortician.

This man was very much _alive._

"Uh…I need another drink." The man muttered as he rolled his head back into the wall, lightly snoring.

"Aw, this is no good, there's no chance in being my guest while you are alive~" He whined as he pocketed the mirror and slipped out the ally way. He looked up at the night sky, watching as the snow turn from a gentle snowfall into a heavy snowfall. Holding up a fingernail to his lips, he tilted his head to the side was he watched the moon glowing at its full potential. It was a beautiful sight indeed, to watch the moon glow in the light of the heavy snow. It was almost as beautiful as some of the guest he has worked on, making them look beautiful to the point they were considered perfect. It was not only his job, but his passion to make every single guest look perfect; as they were more perfect and beautiful dead than they were alive.

"Best to return home now to get the shop in order; there will be plenty of guest tomorrow."

Linking his arms together into his sleeves, he started to head back toward his parlor. Humans were such fickle creatures; people were told that if the weather was to get worse, that they should remain indoors and not to leave their house unless it was an absolute emergency or if their position was either with the Scotland Yard or the Royal London Hospital. Of course, there are people in the world will never take heed to warnings such as that and will continue to do their own thing. Alcoholics were perfect examples; they couldn't survive without having a drink for that day, they needed their fix. They would risk everything to have their fix; even if that meant they had to get out in a blizzard just for one drink. Most people would have a sense to keep something for emergencies, but not everyone was like that. Normal people would shut down the pubs, causing a lot of them wonder the streets trying to find either an open pub or store; those were the ones who were the mostly like to die from hypothermia and frost bite.

People who couldn't afford to stay home and needed to work were often found amongst those frozen to death. It was mainly people who worked on the docks, ships, and fishermen that faced hypothermia from accidently falling into the cold, fringed waters.

You wouldn't think it, but all the brothels had strictly kept women inside and they were forbidden from leaving the building. If a man were to come, they would offer services and even let them stay the night and eat; all for a high price. Most women who lived on their own would open their home to a man for a price as well.

Three things made the world revolved in circles; money, sex, and power.

It was those three things that will make a person, but it was also set to doom them as well.

"Humans can be so fickle...greed will undo them if they don't watch." He grinned, his eyes casting to the side as he saw two drunks stumble out of a pub and down the street; trying to support one another as they walk on home. With the way the snow was coming down and seeing the two without gloves and a heavy coat, he had no doubt he would see one, if not both in his parlor by the end of the week.

Shrugging his shoulders, he started back toward the parlor, watching several other drunks pass him on his way. He passed one lady, who even though it was freezing cold and close to midnight, she was still looking for some company for the night…no doubt for a high price. He watched as she called out toward him, making him stop in his tracks, keeping his back to her.

"You look awfully lonely; do you need some company tonight?" Her voice had that seductive tone, like a succubus on the hunt for her pray. Her dark hair was covered in flakes of snow, the small bow in her hair was now white, the true color hiding beneath the snow. Her dark blue dress nearly blended in with darkness that surrounded her.

"Hehe, thanks for the offer dearie, but I'm going to have to pass."

She made her way out of the shadows toward him, a seductive smirk came across her face, her arms linking through one of his. Pressing against him for warmth, she slid one hand into his sleeves, two of her fingers creeping crawling up his arm. "Aw, are you sure? I'd be happy to keep you company and leave you smiling for days."

"Hmmm…tempting offer, dearie~"

"So, what do I need to push the offer through?"

"~Well…" He slid his hands out of his sleeves and ran his long black nail across her cheek down to the edge of her chin, a twisted grin creeping across his face. "if you were to come in as my guest you could keep my company; but you'd have to be dead."

Her hands released his arm as she staggered back slightly, her eyes widen in fear. "W-What are you saying?"

His fingernail dragged underneath her chin and pushed her chin to make her look at him as he spoke as his twisted grin grew across his face. "I'd be able to help you look so beautiful and perfect for your funeral, heehee~"

"You've lost your mind, you crazy old man!" She scuffed as she ran back into the shadows from which she came from. The Undertaker couldn't help but laugh hysterically at the situation. He had no need for a prostitute, but he did have a need for a laugh. Tormenting her had made his day better since he couldn't find any guest to take him. He was right about one thing; he would've made her look beautiful if she was dead; being alive at that moment, showed that she really wasn't all that beautiful. At least to him she wasn't.

"Eheheheh, that made up for the time spent out here~"

Stepping a foot into the direction of where his parlor was located, there was rather loud clap of thunder and a sudden, yet quick flash of light that seemed to light up the cold, dead of night. Looking up toward the sky where the flash of light had come from, he tilted his head as he watched something fall toward the East End of the city. Maybe it was something off a building that got struck by lightning? Perhaps something fell from out of the sky from a far and mysterious place? If it is to land in the East End like it's heading towards, then it wouldn't be long before someone would find and do whatever it takes to sell whatever it was for the damn Queen's coins, just so they could escape from their pitiful life of poverty.

The flakes fall almost slowly and air is almost still, but it is so thick that it almost obscures the view completely. As he looked upwards he watched as the crystals fall, like oversized cotton balls, towards him. The gale whips each flake, so pretty on its own, into a projectile that hurts unguarded skin. Amongst the beautiful snow fall, something fell quietly and slowly down toward his face, rubbing right under his nose, causing him to break out in a hysterical laugh from the tickling sensation.

"Ehehehehehe! What do we have here~" He snickered as he grabbed the soft yet delicate object that laid underneath his nose. Eyes widen as he rubbed his fingers over the top of it. It was a feather that was pure white as the snow that was currently falling. The softness reminded him of a bed of cottons and it was delicate like a porcelain doll that could break just by a single touch. Why would a single feather fall from the sky? Was it carried away by the wind? Where would something like this even come from? So many questions ran through his mind, as he absently stroked the feather. Looking back up toward the sky, he noticed a few other feathers were being carried off by the wind. A couple of them were stained with drops of crimson red, mostly toward the lower part of the feather. What animal possessed such beautiful feathers to begin with?

"Beautiful, yet very delicate…just like humans. How interesting~" He mused as he followed the direction the feathers were floating from.

It was apparent that the feathers were coming from the East End, which was there the object he watched fall from the sky was heading. Who in their right mind would think about venturing out into the East End of the city this time of night? In the middle of a snow storm and frigid temperatures? Well, luckily for the Undertaker, he wasn't right in his mind at all and the weather didn't bother him one single bit. Especially now that his mind is preoccupied with finding out just who or what these feathers belong too.

Deciding that it would be a lot quicker to hop over roof tops, as he could see everything that was surrounding the city. The trail of feathers kept leading him deeper and deeper into the East End. His ears could pick up the soft sounds of people walking, trash cans being knocked over by drunks, and people fighting the cold before they fall victim to the cold dead of night.

"Hehe, looks like I'll be having some guests in the morning~" Undertaker sang as he hoped along a few more roofs. He frowned as the number of feathers there were, as he knew as many as he has passed, that there was no way they could belong to a bird, even if it was a swan, there shouldn't have been that many feathers. Even so, the more feathers he was passing, the more they were dyed in a crimson color. Meaning, there was only thing that these feathers came from.

 _These feathers…they must come from…_

His train of thought broken as the last feather passed him, his eyes widen at the sight of it. No longer did it look like the beautiful snow fall, no, it was now tainted completely in crimson red blood. It was soaked through and through, dripping tiny droplets of blood as the wind carried it away.

Jumping down into the ally below where he stood; his eyes focusing on what laid in front of him as he got close enough to clearly see what was before him.

 _An angel._

Lying in the middle of the snow, laid a woman outstretched in the snow. Her ivory white dress nearly blended in with the snow…if it wasn't for the large amount of blood that soaked her dress. The back of her dress was open from her shoulders to her lower back, two long gashes that went down on each side of the spine were open by an inch and slowly bleeding out. Her long pure white hair blended in with the snow, with some of the edges tainted with her blood. Breath pale against the numbing air, frost patiently kissed her face and body, leaving a chill of red blemishes on her white peach skin. Her eyes were halfway closed as the soft, dusty illusions of light sat heavy on her eyelashes. He wasn't sure what color her eyes were, all he could see was that they were dark and dull.

Amongst the blood and darkness, a gentle white glow illuminated from her entire being. Comparing the glow to that of an angel in heaven, it was a pale and dull glow, but to him; it was beautiful. Just like her fallen feathers. She was indeed a fallen angel.

"Hehehe, a fallen angel, eh? My, you are as beautiful and fragile as the feathers that once belonged to you~" He mused as he bent down to inspect the poor angel. Judging by the shallow movements of her chest and her pale clouded breath with every exhale she gave, it was very apparent she was still alive. Laying his hand against her blemished cheek, he could feel that she was chilled, yet feel her body still give off enough heat to help fight the bitter cold. His thumb traced over her pale pink lips that gave off a slight blueish tint, watching as her eyes completely close the rest of the way.

His eyes ran to the to the two large gashes along her back, his face scrunched at the sight of them. The gashes were at least a foot long running down in a straight line, with an inch or two in width. Something like that on a mere human would be rather painful and almost fatal; they would have either a chance of dying from blood loss or a massive infection. It was apparent that she was in pain, it was etched on her delicate face.

"I'm curious to know what you did to fall, most curious indeed~" He mused as he removed his robe, laying down onto the snow next to the angel. Bending back down, he brushed the hair out of her face as he spoke. "This may hurt a bit, so bear with me dearie." Gently and carefully, he rolled her over onto her back, watching as she withered in pain under his hands, a faint groan left her lips as she laid on his robe. It was the best he could to keep the wounds covered from any foreign object entering and causing an infection. Slipping one arm underneath her shoulder, just above where the gash began, propping her up enough to slip his other arm underneath her knees, lifting her with no issue at all. He knew she had to be in pain from the position he had to hold her in, but it was the only way to hold her without causing further injury to the wounds on her back.

"H-Hey, you there, old man!"

Hiccup.

The Undertaker frowned at the voice from behind, turning to see a drunken middle-aged fool standing directly behind him. A nearly empty bottle of whiskey in one hand, the other hand propped on the wall, trying to keep him steady. His eyes were glazed over from the amount of liquor that was in his system, as it was enough that Undertaker could smell it from where he stood. The man staggered a little, taking a gulp of the remainder whiskey he had left in his bottle. Whipping his mouth with his sleeve, he gave a drunk laugh as he pointed his bottle at the two. "It's not nice to hog a prostitute like that."

"Prostitute, eh? Hehehe, you have the wrong idea~"

Hiccup. The drunken fool scratched his greasy head as he stumbled a little toward him. There was mischievous glint in his eyes, one that was not friendly and full of evil intent. Undertaker tightened his grip on the fallen angel, causing a twinge of pain shoot across her face as a small gasp slipped through her lips. He knew that he needed to get her out of the cold and back to his parlor before her condition got worse, but there was something he needed to do first.

To take care of this drunken fool.

"Oh, she likes it rough, huh? I'll make the slag scream and bleed worse than you did." Hiccup.

Menacing grin crept across his face as he started to cackle. "Oh, you'd think I'd so something so terrible to this angel~" Wagging his finger with the hand that was wrapped around her shoulders, his grin grew wider as his eyes peaked through his bangs. "You're the worst type of human there is; you're nothing but a drunken fool who would hurt an innocent person without a second thought."

Within a blink of an eye, Undertaker was now standing behind the drunk man, who stumbled forwards and fell face first into the snow in surprise. He wasn't sure when or how the man got right behind him, without even noticing him past him. Flipping over onto his back, he saw the cold murderous glare coming from beneath the gray headed man. The snow underneath the man turned a little yellow as he shudders uncontrollably underneath the powerful glare.

"If it wasn't for this delicate fallen angel, you would've been dead by now. If I ever catch you again doing something like this…well you know what awaits you~" He sang with a smile as he turned his back on the drunken fool.

Not giving a second look, he started to sprint back to the parlor. Luckily enough, it wasn't that far from the East End as it sat in the middle of London; making it easy for everyone to reach without having to go far.

For someone as insane as he is; he was exceptionally smart when it came down to business.

 _My, my, I wish this angel was awake…I'm curious to know what she did to fall out of grace._

It was an unusual circumstance to see an angel fall; even more so to meet one. Normally, once they were cast out of heaven, they were sent automatically to hell; only until a judgement from God could be passed. It was either spend a little time in hell until you got your grace back and was let back into heaven or to spend the rest of eternity in hell. So, for an angel to fall straight from heaven and land in the realm in between the two; that was something almost unheard of. In all his years, Undertaker had seen maybe two angels fall, but he had never met them, as they plunged into hell so fast that it happened in the blink of an eye.

Angels often have no problem interfering in the affairs of other races; they are often annoying and acted as if they were the most important beings to ever be created.

At least, that was what the Undertaker was always taught. He really didn't care if someone was human, angel, demon, or grim reaper. Races weren't important to him; he dealt with everyone, so it never bothered him.

He kicked the door open to his parlor as quick as he kicked it shut. He walked straight past the front room where he kept some of his coffins and interacting with his customers, heading straight to the back of his parlor, where his work shop was. Extending his arms, he gently rolled the woman onto her stomach, laying his now bloody robe onto a chair that sat in the corner of the room. Lighting the candles along the wall and the chandelier, he now had a fully lit room to work with. It was a decent size room that was about as big as the front room. The work shop had a metal table in the center of the room that he worked on his quest with. Multiple shelves surrounded the room, filled with beakers, books, test tubes, work interments, and jars filled with random organs.

Taking out towels, water, topical cream, and stiches; he started to get the work on the fallen angel. The wounds on her back should've been healing already, yet the only thing that has happened as the blood finally stopped and started to finally clot. Dipping the towel into the water, he worked on cleaning the dry blood and dirt off her back and around the wounds. Rubbing the blood and dirt off her back was the easy part, the harder part was that every time he got near or inside of the wound, he could feel every single muscle in her body tense up underneath his touch and a faint cry would escape her lips.

When he had heard the first whimper come from her, his entire body froze as he stared down at her. It was an unusual sound, one that he was not very familiar with. It had been eight and half years since he last heard a sound like that. Undertaker knew that she was going to cry with every touch to her wounds, but they had to be cleaned. He had to focus, blocking out each cry would help him clean the wounds faster. It would hurt more if he stopped with every little cry she would make. The more he heard her cry, the more he solely focused in on the wounds. The people he works our always quiet, since they are dead. So, to hear someone he is working on to cry was a tad bit weird…and out of the norm for the mortician. That said a lot, as it took a lot to weird out such an insane mortician.

It was once that he finished cleaning the wounds and the area around it that he could see the full extent of the gashes. They weren't exactly deep enough to see the bones, but he could see a lot of tissue and muscle; these types of wounds would have a high probability of killing any normal human. Being a fallen angel, she was an immortal being, so this shouldn't kill her, but it doesn't explain why her wounds weren't healing at a normal rate a typical angel would heal. Was it because she was fallen? Did she lose some of her abilities when she fell out of heaven? No. That couldn't be it.

 _Her body is still emanating a pale glow, so she still has some of her angelic abilities. Fallen angels ended up keeping their abilities, but become very unstable and have a habit of losing their minds. Most angels that end up in hell with little to no angelic abilities, slowly end up turning into a demon and spend the rest of their eternity devouring souls and fighting against angels. Fallen angels were almost as dangerous as demons, but they still have…their wings._

Something finally went off inside of the insane mortician's head as it finally dawned on him.

The vertical gashes with wide widths. The wounds not healing like they would on a normal angel. The pain from the wounds. Massive number of feathers that scattered in the wind; falling from a beautiful snow white to an even more beautiful crimson red.

 _She was stripped of her wings._

If the wide gashes and exceptional amount of blood that soaked into her dress, was to give any kind of indication. It was the simple fact that she was stripped of her wings, in a very brutal and unmerciful way. Tch. They could be such hypotrichs. States they show mercy and are peaceful beings; yet they will be brutal and show no mercy to their own kind if they do the littlest thing wrong.

It was going to take some serious stitching for her wounds to close all the way; at least 40 stitches on each side. The internal wounds would heal without a problem, as some of them started to heal now, but that's the extent of what would be healed. Wounds like that should heal with no problems, leaving no scars as angels were known for being completely and utterly perfect. Due to her wings being ripped straight from her back and becoming a fallen angel; she will have very long scars down her back. To the angels, she will be an example of having to turn into a fallen angel. Her scars will be the blemish of her perfection, they will be the painful and hideous reminders that she would have to live with every single day. Once considered beautiful, she will be considered ugly.

If you were to ask an angel; she's imperfect, hideous, worthless, filthy, and insignificant. Nothing more, nothing less. There would be no need to describe her any more than what had already been said.

If you were to ask the Undertaker; he would tell you that her scars are what make her beautiful. They are what make her perfect, more perfect than she was before when she had her wings. To him, she would be the essence of beauty and perfection.

Grabbing the needle and thread, he stood over her left side, judging about how he wanted to start sewing her up. Running a hand over her head, he leaned over her with a gentle smile spreading across his lips. "Don't worry dearie, I promise to make you look absolutely beautiful."

Threading the needle, he decided it would be to start from the base of her back and work his way up to her shoulder. Slowly, he popped the needle through the closet edge of the wound to him and started to sew away from himself.

Either she passed out from the pain and blood loss or what, it had appeared that the immediate edge of the wound had become numb and he was able to pierce the skin with little to no discomfort as he didn't hear a whimper from her like he first did when he started on cleaning her wounds.

There was a different when stitching up someone who was live, rather than dead; he had to make sure that kept as close to the edge as possible without it hemorrhaging and releasing the stitch. Not one to make such a rookie mistake such as that, he knew he would just have to a little extra careful and make every single stitch perfect.

He started to the left of the wound with an initial holding stitch. Inserting the needle downwards through the layer of the skin. Leveling off the needle, he ventured through the wound and to the adjacent wall of the wound. Once he got across the other side of the wound, he returned the needle to the skin surface on the same exact spot on the opposite side from where he had started. After reaching the right-hand side of the wound, he started to make a diagonal path across the wound again to the next point. Repeating this process, zig-zagging his way to the top of the wound, he made to tie off the stitches in a decent knot that wouldn't come undone or rip…he hoped.

Glancing up at the clock, he saw it was well past two in the morning, which meant he probably spent a good hour on just stitching one of the two wounds. Sighing, he walked to the other side, inspecting the wound more closely. It was just slightly worse than the other, if he had to guess this wound way maybe just half an inch longer with a quarter inch longer in width. At first glance, one would not notice the difference, but when you look more closely, it was a little different from the other side.

"It appears whoever did this has a dominate right hand." He mused quietly as he started to work on the other side of her back. Not making another sound yet again as he stuck the needle through, he started on his zig-zag pattern. It was truly wonder if she hadn't passed out from both the pain and lack of blood loss. Reaching the top of her wound, he tied the exact same knot at the top of the wound.

Taking the antibiotic ointment, he gently covered each side with a layer of the antibiotic cream. Even though dressing the wounds wasn't probably necessary, he wasn't sure what abilities she had or if any after her fall, so it would be better to take extra precautions just in case she had lost all her abilities. Laying the dressing over her back, he taped down the gauze in four different spots to keep a decent hold without restricting breathing room for the wounds.

Moving to wash his hands in the bowl that sat on the table behind him. Drying off his hands, he turned back to the fallen angel that laid across his table before him.

"Eehehe, I did my best dearie to make them even on both sides." He giggled as he inspected his handiwork. The left wound required 31 stitches, while the right wound required 33 stitches, an extra stitch at the top and bottom of the wound.

Glancing up at the clock again, it was now going on three in the morning and there was so much left to be done.

The easy part was out of the way.

Now came the hard part; what the hell was he supposed to do with her dress and how was he supposed to change her?

Folding his arms across his chest, a frown swept across his face as he looked down at her. Ivory dress that stretched down to the top of her feet, was nearly drenched in her blood. Ends of her snow-white hair were stained crimson red. The sight of the blood didn't bother one bit, hell, nothing really bothered him much, he didn't really care for the smell, but he'd take that over the smell of rotting flesh and meat any day of the week. The issue was, he didn't want to leave her in the dress she wore; it wouldn't be nice to leave a young lady in a blood-soaked dress. Even though it did give him great access to the wounds on her back, he still needed to come up with a different solution.

"Hmm, what could I put on the fallen angel~" He sang as he walked over to the sink, filling up another bowl, laying one towel in the bowel and throwing another towel over his arm. Working on washing the blood out of her hair, he mused over the thought of what he could.

 _If the wounds were located anywhere else other than her back, I could easily slip her into a gown. Between the location and extent of the stitches, I need easy access to clean them and bandage them. Well…I guess it can't be helped, there's only one thing I can do~_

Once the blood was out of her hair, he quickly dried the ends off with the other towel. He gathered her hair together and laid it over her shoulder, that way it wouldn't aggravate the dressings on her back any.

With a shrug of his shoulders, he disappeared out of his shop, he walked up the stairs that was adjacent to the door, into one of the two bedrooms that was up there. Slipping into one of the bedrooms, he walked over to the cabinet and pulled out a black sheet.

"Hope she isn't easily frighten lady~"

Skipping quietly down the steps, he stepped back into lab to find her in the exact same place he had left her, she almost seemed lifeless. Like she was dead. Placing two fingers gently against her throat, he could feel a pulse. Weak, but still beating in a normal rhythm or what one could be called normal for an angel. Who really knows how the body of an angel works? If she was to die, he would use her body as an experiment, just to see if the inside of an angel was any different a human.

"I'm curious to know why she fell, yet I'm curious to know what she looks like inside~"

Ghosting his fingers up her arms to her shoulders, his hands undid the button that held the dress together at her neck, his fingers nimbly slipped into the opening of her dress, gently dragging it down. While the dress was slipping down her body, he couldn't help but admire the silk feeling of her white peach toned skin. He expected nothing less from the fallen angel; she was the aspect of beauty, and he just made her even more beautiful with the stitches that trailed down her back. Once the dress reached the bottom of her back, he stopped for a quick second and grabbed the sheet that he had brought down. Fanning out the sheet, he draped it over the top of her back, stretching down to the back of her thighs. Returning his hands to grab the remainder of her dress, he slipped down off her hips and down her legs, pulling the sheet behind her as he finishes taking it off her. Throwing it on top of his robe that laid in the chair, he returned his attention back to the injured angel.

"There we are, dearie. Sorry, this is the best I could~" He giggled as he ran another hand over the back of her head. Her hair was as soft as the feathers from her wings. A snicker snuck out of his mouth as he watched her sleep for a minute. Her delicate faces looked as she was sleeping peacefully, yet he could see a glint of dolefulness that was etched into her features.

His eyes which hid beneath his bangs soften slightly as he blew out all the candles in his lab. She shouldn't be up anytime soon and it would be better to close everything in case someone wanted to pay an early morning visit. Knowing that he would be flooded with customers as soon as the sun would rise and people would start finding the bodies of people who were out in the snow; it was set to be busy the next day or two. Moving up the stairs and into the other bedroom that was his, he managed to remove his boots and shirt, before he collapsed on the bed in exhaustion. Even though he was used to having times where he stayed up for nearly an entire day, he was getting old. Hell, he _was_ old. His mind started to drift off into different places, a giggle slipped past his lips as he thought about making that coffin for that prostitute that tried to get him that night.

"Hehe…she'd be perfect in a red wood coffin~"

Little did he know that back down in his lab, a dull, yet equally beautiful pair of sapphire blue eyes had snapped opened. Taking in the very dark world that surrounded those sapphire eyes at that very moment in time.


	2. Her Awakening

**A/N:** Thank you so much for the reviews, follows, and favorites! It seriously makes my day when I get emails about my story ^-^. I have actually decided to up the hint of DiederichxOC to an actual small fling, but don't worry. That's all. I just needed a bit of dramatic flair to the story and we all know the Undertaker makes us love him even more when he gets dominating and serious, especially when you touch something he's found oh so interesting and adores.

Now, on with the story!

* * *

 _I am fallen,_

 _But I am free,_

 _I cannot fly,_

 _But I can see._

 _My soul is broken,_

 _My body is cut,_

 _But my heart is full,_

 _Where my strength is not._

 _My wings may be torn,_

 _My halo may be crooked,_

 _But I have my friends,_

 _Who will guide me when I am blinded_

* * *

She woke up gasping for air, as if she'd been drowning and was finally pulled to the surface. While trying to even her breathing, she glances around quickly, but couldn't tell where she was. The room was completely wrapped in darkness, no windows in the room meant no light was getting into the room. Muscles in her neck were stiff and felt tensed as she turned her head to the other direction, finding nothing but the same darkness as she saw to her left.

Twisting her head slightly back, feeling a thin cloth that covered up her neck slip down slightly, revealing right shoulder had a white cloth covering something that extended down her back and saw that her body had been covered only in a cloth that matched the darkness around her, as she lied on a cold metal table. Pressing her palms into the table, she tried to push herself up onto her knees, she let out an inaudible gasp from that pain that she felt. It was those injuries on her shoulders and back that made every attempted move to cause unbearable pain, something else she could not remember if she had felt before in her life. How could she not remember if she had ever been in pain before? The feeling was horribly execrating and terrible.

Her arms trembled as she lowered herself back down onto the table, shivering as her bare skin touched the cold metal table. Big sapphire eyes were focused on the darkness, but to her, it felt as if the darkness was spinning in circles. Squinting her eyes, she could barely make out what looked to a wall with something attached to it, but it appeared to look like it was moving around. Biting her bottom lip, her face scrunched up feeling the pain again from the movement of her shoulder as she laid a hand on her head, feeling a painful sensation spreading across her forehead to the back of her head, down to the base of her skull. It was rather a painful feeling that made her stomach feel like it was turning just how the walls were.

There were many things she wasn't sure about. She didn't have a single clue to where she was; as she had clue where she was from. She wasn't sure if she was alone in this room or if there were other…well, she had no clue what could be around her. Not knowing exactly where she was meant she had clue what could be lurking around her within the darkness. Not a clue what had happened to her for her to feel such pain. Whatever had happened had to be bad for her to not be able to move her entire body without feeling like her back was going to split wide open.

She couldn't recall anything from her past, not even her last memory. It was like she was blank, as if she was reborn the very moment that she woke up. Closing her eyes, her mind tried to think about to the very last thing that she could remember…but, the only thing she could remember last was her gasping for air. Did something happen? What could have happened for her to be like this.

Was it the reason she was feeling such horrible pain?

She couldn't recall where she was born.

She couldn't recall how old she was.

She couldn't recall where she was from.

She couldn't recall what happened last.

Her mind was as blank as a brand-new journal that was just waiting to be written in.

There was one thing she could recall though.

 _Her name._

 _Sapphira._

 _My name...my name is Sapphira._

She opened her mouth to speak, yet not a single word would come out. Her throat was terribly dry and sore, just breathing through her mouth irritated her throat to the point of making it even rawer than it was.

Sapphira desperately tried to think about what had happened.

 _What was my last memory?_

Rattling her brain for what seemed like hours, she came up with nothing.

After thinking about for a few more minutes, she started to feel her eyelids get heavy as her vision got blurry. Closing her eyes, she felt herself falling into a deep sleep.

* * *

" _You brought this upon yourself!"_

" _You're tainted! Unclean! Not even God can save your soul."_

" _You dare question our creator with your senseless ideas and impure thoughts."_

" _She must be a follower of Satan!"_

 _It was a never-ending circle of whispering, yelling, taunting, and humiliating the one person who stood in the middle of the circle. A young woman stood in the middle of the vicious circles of angry people. Her wings folded backwards in fright, as she held her hands together at her chest. Her big bright sapphire eyes darting from people to people, absorbing every single word that was being yelled at her. She knew she had to escape, she had to get away while she had the chance too._

" _I have to escape now, it's my only chance." She muttered as she flapped her wings as fast as she could, flying straight up from the group that had surrounded her. She was flying through the sky, dodging anyone that would try and get in her way. Her wings ached as she flew higher and higher into the air. "There's no looking back, I have to keep going or else."_

 _Flap. Flap. Flap_

 _Eyes widen at the sudden sound of several pairs of wings flapping directly behind her._

" _No, they are now after me. I must get away from them."_

" _I have to get away."_

* * *

Sapphira bolted up from the table, her whole body searing in pain. She wanted to scream but it was caught inside of her throat, her fingers scrapping along the metal table. She knees shaking underneath the weight that is placed on them as she sits up fully on her knees. The thoughts are accelerating inside of her head. She wanted them to slow so she can breathe, but they don't. Her breaths came in gasps and she felt like she was going to black out. Her heart was hammering inside of her chest. The dark room was spinning yet again, as she scooted herself onto her bottom, slinging her legs over the table.

 _Just a dream…it was just a dream._

Wait. No. That felt like a memory.

Her face scrunched up as she tried to remember what she either dreamt of or remembered.

All she could remember were a bunch of people yelling hateful things…and was the person flying? No, that was complete nonsense. No one can fly, they must've been being chased. Wait, can people fly? Shaking her head as her mind went back and forth about whether if someone could fly or not. As the last sentence that the person had said still lingered in her mind. It was the only sentence that had seemed to stick with her after she woke up.

" _I have to get away."_

 _What does that even mean? Why does she have to get away or yet, why do I get away? Was it just a dream or was it…a memory. I hate that I can't remember any more than just that now._

 _Jingle. Jingle_

The strange sound startled the young woman, causing her to jump slightly with widening eyes. Biting down on her lip as she felt a flare of pain shoot up her back, her hands gipped the edge of the table. As much pain as she was in and while she really wanted to remember her dream or memory, even though there wasn't really anything to remember, there wasn't much she could do about either one. She really wanted to figure exactly where she was, there were so many questions that needed answers too. Glancing back at the sheet, she grabbed it and wrapped it loosely around herself, her face slowly grimaced when the sheet brushed against her back. Wrapping one arm around her chest, to hold the sheet up, she used her other hand guide her through the dark, using anything she can grab onto to help her walk.

Legs felt like rubber with each step that she took; as if they hadn't been used in months or even years. The pain in her back would flare up with each step and each time she used her arm to hold onto something. As much as she wanted to scream, she knew there would be no point in screaming.

Her throat was to raw and sore, she could barely breath through her mouth without it painfully burning. Which meant that a simple blood curling scream would just be out of the question.

Sapphira tilted her head in confusion as she stared at the door in front of her. Eyes roamed the room, seeing that the entire room was made from the same materials…but the thing that was in the wall in front of her was made of something different. Laying a hand on the door, it felt cold and was silver shiny color, completely contrasting against the dark gray walls. Running a hand down it, she was stopped half way down by a knob that stuck directly out from the door.

Grasping a hold of it, she tried pulling it toward her.

That didn't work.

Her lips turned down as she stared it, tilting her head even more in confusion. Knowing that didn't work, so instead, she used what little force she could muster and pushed on the door.

That didn't work.

Pressing her lips into a hard line, her eyes narrowed at the door. It wouldn't work if she pulled or pushed it, so how was she supposed to leave the area that she was in. Pressing her head against the door, she could faintly hear what sounds like voices and what sound like…maybe giggling?

"Gu Hehehehehe Ehehehehehe!"

The entire building started to shake at the sound; a sound that startled the poor young woman nearly to death and almost caused to fall backwards, if it wasn't for the death-grip she had on the knob. The sound was enough to make the entire building shake, startle her, and caused whoever had been speaking to fall silent and the sound of something falling could be heard coming from behind the door.

The sound also caused her hardline lips into a small smile. It was the first pleasant sound she had heard since she woke up. The sound was not a giggle; but actual laughter. A part of her desperately yearned to hear that sound again. The voice that it belonged to was infectious, it had a slight raspy sound to it, but the sound was…majestic. She longed to hear the voice again, she wanted to hear the slight giggle, she _needed_ to hear that loud, infectious laugh again.

 _That sound…it's…_

"Eheheheh~"

 _It's…beautiful._

As if her request had been heard, the entire building once again started to shake, causing a rather large crash to be heard from the direction that she was facing. Once again, it nearly caused her to fall backwards, this time her gripped on the knob twisted slightly and the door in front of her swung right open. Pressing a finger against her lip, she tilted her head to the side as she stared past the door. Hesitantly, she stepped a foot out of the door, taking in the view that was around her. Straight in front of her was a dark purple curtain, with a small amount of light leaked through the gaps of areas that the curtain never fully covered. Glancing to her right, she saw two more doors that looked like the one that she was behind, but they looked to be completely different, both the color and what they were made from. Toward the very end there was an open area that looked as it was going upper part of the building.

"So, they died out in the cold, eh?"

"Yes, they had left the pub without their coat and gloves, clearly intoxicated. We believe he got disoriented and forgot how to get home, so he stopped and sat down in an alley way next to the pub and fell asleep; which is how we ended up finding him."

"Hehehe, what a foolish man~"

"Uh…anyway, we are working on locating his next of kin and once we do, we will inform them that he is here."

Sapphira quietly crept toward the curtain, peeking through the small gap that would lead into the main room. She could see that the room was only lit up by the double panel window that was place on the door and the candles that lit around the room. She could see three other people standing in the middle of the room; two which wore the same exact outfit, all in black from the head down. The look on their face looked incredibly uncomfortable, as one man tried to find something in the front of the building to occupy his attention, while the other man looked down at the ground.

The third man had his back to her; as all she could see was that he was leaning over something, his long gray hair that stretched down to his hips. He was also covered in black; from his head, down to his boots, besides the gray scarf that was tied down to the hip. Her eyes travel from that old looking top hat that adorned his head, the tail of it reaching down all the way to where a chain of lockets that sat secured around his hips. The black robe he wore covered his hands, as he brought up to his face and laughed behind it.

"Yes, yes, that will do. Hehehe~"

Her sapphire eyes widen as she heard him laugh; it wasn't as loud as the first laugh she had heard, but it was still infectious. Lips twitching into a smile, she stepped a little closer to get a better view of the man that was laughing.

 _Creak._

All three heads snapped toward the direction of the sound, causing Sapphira to bring her free hand to her mouth as she stepped back from the curtain, yearning another sound from the place in the floor she had taken her foot off. She backed into the wall that behind her, which earned a screamed that was stuck in her throat once more. The pain shot up her back and burned deep into her body; her entire body was shaking from the pain, her eyes now stinging as tears threaten to escape. The hand that was covering her mouth, propped herself off the wall, to give a bit of free space between that and her back. The voices seemed to have grown even louder; as if they were slowly approaching where she was hiding herself.

"What the bloody hell was that?" One of the men yelled.

"Is there someone else in here, Mr. Undertaker?" The other man who had been talking before, his tone had grown serious and threating. She couldn't see what was going on, but she could tell that he was slowly making his way toward where she was currently standing. Biting her lip as she heard heavy footsteps coming toward her direction.

"Hehehe, this old building makes strange noises all the time~" Undertaker crackled as he blocked the curtained way. His arms wrapped around him as he danced around in a circle, a grin stretching across his face. "Some of the souls of the dead that have been brought here tend to linger and make such strange noises, such lovely sounds they make, hee hee~"

The two officers couldn't help but shutter at the feeling that they were being watched by someone else other than the Undertaker. It was obvious that no one liked coming to this dreadful, now haunting place. No wonder why some of the other officers snickered and told them to have fun with dropping the body off here. They got to learn first-hand that this man was surely insane. Glancing at one another, they both backed to the door, nodding their heads.

"Yes, well…now that our work is done, we shall be going."

"Hehehe, please do come back again. Your joke was hysterical~" He laughed as he watched the two run out of his door. Slowly making his way to the front door, he flipped the open sign to close and locked the door. Turning his attention back toward the curtain, a grin extended across his face as he skipped toward the curtain. "I'm curious to know what's haunting my parlor~"

Slinging the curtain back, his eyes that hide beneath his bangs widen slightly at the sight that stood before him. The fallen angel stood up against the wall, the sheet he had covered her in was wrapped around her tiny form. Her delicate face was etched in distress as small tiny crystal beads creeped out of her big sapphire eyes, one after another, as it turned into a flowing steam of crystal water that ran down her face and dripped from her chin onto the sheet. His eyes traveled down to her knees and he could see that they were shaking, as if any moment they were ready to collapse from out under her.

Raising a hand, he saw she sunk back into the wall, her face grimacing from the pain that she felt. Shaking his head, he gently slid his finger across her cheeks to wipe away her tears. "Don't worry dearie, I'm not going to hurt you~"

Taking a deep breath, she nodded her head as she pushed off the wall a little. She glanced up at him and saw that his bangs covered his eyes, but he wore a smile. Feeling instant relief when she saw his smile; it was just like his laugh, it was beautiful and it was the first pleasant thing her eyes had laid on. Following the movement of his hand, she watched as it went from her cheek to the top of her head, feeling him lift and lower his hand several times to the top of her head. Not once did that beautiful smile leave his face.

"Now dearie, you really shouldn't be up and walking around~ Come along now, let's changed the bandages and see how your stitches are." He sang as he started off the direction toward where the stairs and started to skip up the stairs, but stopped in the third one when he didn't hear anything behind him. Spinning around on the stair case, he tilted his head as he watched the young woman stare at him, her finger pointing toward the work shop that he had left in hours ago.

"Whe-," Sapphira started to ask, but her throat was still terribly dry and sore. She was surprised that she was able to even get part of a word out, as earlier she couldn't even say her name for her throat being so raw.

Undertaker shook his head as he hopped down from the third stair, a small crackle left his lips as his hang snaked out from the sleeve of his robed and gently grasped her hand, dragging her up the stairs. "Ehehehe, no dearie, there's no need for you to go back in there; plus, I have a guest that needs to be worked on~"

Nearly stumbling going up the first few steps, she finally found her footing and followed him as he leads up into a hallway that looked similar to the one that she was just in. Everything passed by in a blur as she was dragged into one the first door on the right. Grasping the sheet tighter against her chest, she looked around the room, trying to take in everything that was in front of her. Eyes widen in amazement as she compared the room she was currently standing in and the room she had first woken up in.

Walls were painted in a soft dark blue, nothing like the harsh dark gray that was in the work room. Instead of a hard metal table, there was a decent size bed that sat fleshed up against the wall, covered in dark blue sheets. It looked to be a lot more comfortable than the table she had slept on, which in any case, anything else would probably be more comfortable than the cold hard metal table. To the left of the room there was a decent size window which was covered in a dark blue curtain. It had appeared that everything was matching in the room, besides the two dressers and door that she had walked through to get into the room.

"Now dearie, let me get something to clean your stitches and change your bandages. Would you like something to drink?"

Undertaker had snapped Sapphira out of her amazement of the room, earning a small nod from the young-looking woman.

"Hehe, while I do that, you lay down on the bed and get comfortable~" Undertaker motioned to the bed before he skipped out of the room and down the stairs. Nothing really surprised him in this day in age, but he was quite surprised to see her up and moving around a little. Probably more out of curiosity than anything, but still surprised none the less. Slipping into his work shop, he grabbed the antibiotic cream and more bandages for her wounds. Granted it would be a lot easier to do this on his work table, but now that she was awake, it didn't feel suite right to have her laying on it. Scurrying out of his work room and down into the room that was two doors down, he entered in a small dining room; with the only things in the room was a small black table and two black chairs. A door behind the table lead into the kitchen, which was a tad bit bigger than the dining room. Opening one of the cabinets, he grabbed a glass beaker and filled it with water.

Hopping up each of the steps, he twirled into the room, one hand holding the beaker full of water as the other hand held the antibiotic cream and bandages. "Now, let me see…. dearie?" He stopped dead in his tracks, a look of confusion crossed his face as he watched the fallen angel. She was standing over the bed, her hand hesitantly slid up the bed, feeling the softness of the sheets. The facial expression she wore was one he had not seen before on someone; it was mysterious, a smile tugged her lips yet at the same time, there was no smile. A fallen angel with unsurpassed beauty, yet full of mystery; just as if she was the Mona Lisa herself. Her mind was so lost and focused on what she was doing, that she hadn't even notice him standing there, much less heard him walk in and talk to her.

"My, my, what a naughty little angel you are, didn't I say for you to get in the bed and lay down~" Undertaker snickered, watching her jumped nearly two feet in the air. She clutched the sheets to her chest, down casting her eyes toward the bed with a red tint spreading across her cheeks. He couldn't contain himself and started to cackle at her reaction, yet again she surprised him. He hadn't expected her to get embarrassed as she did, but it was a cute reaction he had gotten.

Laying the bandages and cream down onto the stand next to the bed, he stretched over the bed and handed the beaker of water out toward her. "Drink this dearie, it should help with that their sore throat of yours. Down that as I fetch some water and towels to clean your back."

Gently, yet eagerly taking the beaker from his hands, she quickly pressed it against her lips and quickly gulped it down. The cold water ran down her throat, coating the soreness and rawness in a wonderful bliss, eyes shining bright in absolute happiness. Swallowing became easier, breathing became not as painful, and she felt like she could start talking to him. Honestly, she didn't even have an idea of how she sounded; if one can't even remember how they sound like, one would deemed that is a bad thing.

Laying the beaker down on the table, she could hear him skipping back as he giggled. Turning to face him as he laid the bowl of water and several towels down next to the stuff he had brought up from downstairs. He dipped the towel into the water several times, his eyes cutting out under his bangs, giving her a small glimpse of what his eyes looked like. They were a bright green with…yellow? She didn't have long to ponder about his eyes as he started to speak again. His tone sudden turned serious with a hint of dominance lacing his voice.

"As I said the last two times; I do need you to get on the bed in the same position you were in when you had first woken up. You wouldn't want your injures to get infected would you?"

"N-no, sir." She yelped, moving to crawl onto the bed with slow and careful movements. The pain of moving her arms had eased up some, but when it came to having to move her shoulders and her back, that was a whole different story. Sapphira sucked in her bottom lip as she lowered herself onto the bed, feeling the same burning sensation from earlier spread across her entire back. When the sharp stabbing pains surfaced, it thankfully only last a few minutes, it was always the burning and dull pain that lingered for quite a while and would always end up being almost unbearable.

Undertaker chucked as he moved her hair over to the hide with one hand, while the other hand dragged the sheet that was wrapped around her down. Wanting to keep her modest so she wouldn't feel embarrassed, he left the sheet sitting right at her hips, leaving complete access to her wounds. He first peeled the bandages off the left side of her back, analyzing the stitches on her back. The entire area seemed a little red with minimal swelling, but they were healing nicely, with each individual thread holding up beautifully. It was nice to see that they were still holding up as she moved around. One thing that was good about working with the dead; he didn't have to worry about their stitches coming apart.

Sliding around the bed, he started to work on removing the right bandage; the worse wound of the two she had. That area was a little redder than the left side with the same amount of swelling as the left side had; but it was nothing to bad. Nothing that some antibiotic cream couldn't fix since it was only a little red and nothing else. Inspecting the stitches, he started down on the end and worked his way up. Each stitch was made with perfection; not a single one ripping or stretching out of place. Reaching to the very top, he saw the last top three stitches were not up his standards; not at all.

"No, I don't like this one bit." Undertaker frowned.

"Don't like?" Sapphira questioned as she tried to turn to face the mortician, but was suddenly stopped by two hands grabbing her shoulders, gently pushing her back down on the bed. His long hair draped across her back and down her face, causing a slightly tickling sensation that had her biting her lip, in hopes of containing her laughter.

"No moving dearie, I need you to stay completely still. I'll be right back." He quickly fled the room and down to his lab. Grabbing scissors to cut out the stitches, needle and thread to re-stitch the wound, and a rag with small bottle of ether. He wasn't sure if he was going to need the either or not, depending on her pain tolerance, but he knew that the second she would display any pain he'd have her smell the ether to help relieve some of the pain, if not all of it.

Quickly making his way out of the room and up the stairs, he was curious to see if she'd listened to him and stayed still, or got up to see what he was talking about. It amused him that she was so curious, but when she wouldn't do something it slightly annoyed him, just a child learning the world for the first time and not listening to their parent. Of course, she was not a child and he was not a parent, but it was close enough to be compared to that.

Strolling into the room, a smile crept across his face as he saw that she hadn't moved an inch. Such a good little listener she can be. Her eyes seemed to be focus on the window outside, but she was unable to see much due the sun causing a glare on the window and the curtains halfway over the window. Such a curious fallen angel indeed.

"Hehe, such a good little angel you are~"

Laying his tools out, he bent down to inspect the three stitches that he greatly disapproved of. Two of the stitches were slightly torn in the center; mostly like from movement of her right shoulder and arm. The third stich wasn't holding very well and would end up causing a wound dehiscence if one was not paying careful attention like he does. Luckily for her, he's very particular about his guest look…even his one and only living guest that laid in front of him. He decided that if he was to _ever_ get another living guest; be it an angel, demon, reaper, or human, he would just ship them off out the door and to the hospital. It was a hassle; one that he didn't want to deal with, so hopefully this one doesn't disappoint him.

"I-is everything alright?" Sapphira watched as he grabbed the scissors, only to pause at her question.

He could see that she was tensing up under the weight of her own question. A grin appeared across his face as he took one of his hands and patted her head, putting her slightly at ease. "Don't you worry, angel~ It's nothing that I can't handle, hehe."

Cutting each stitch with extreme care to not hurt her and not to aggravate the wound, as he didn't need the small exposed area to start bleeding. Gently pulling each thread out, he placed it down onto the stand. So far so good, she was perfectly content and the wound was not bleeding.

Threading the needle, his hand gently held her in place as his other hand moved the needle to the area he needed to stich back up. Glancing back to the bottle of ether and rag, he turned his eyes to the angel, who was still staring out the window. "This may hurt just a little dearie, if the pain becomes unbearable, let me know and I have something to give you to help with the pain."

"Okay."

He proceeded to insert the needle through edge of the wound to and started to sew away from himself. Feeling her back slightly tense up from pain, he looked to see if he needed to get her something for the pain. Her face slightly scrunched up in pain, but she hadn't said anything yet about it. Seeing it as sign to keep going, he moved to finish the first stitch, stilling watching her from out of the corner of his eye.

With the second stitch; shutting her eyes from the pain with her face still scrunched up, but no word or sound left her mouth. So far so good. Not much pain and no bleeding.

With the third stitch; a small trail of tears escaped from the corner of her eyes and a small of blood escaped from the very top. The bleeding would be easy to stop; as it mostly from the needle piercing the skin. Gently wiping up the blood, he tied the knot off a little tighter, hoping that would prevent the wound from trying to come open again and the thread from tearing. Even though he was done with that, she still had a trail of tears slipping down her face. He was about to ask if she was alright; but the young fallen one beat him to it before he could.

"It's still bearable." She whispered as her eyes fluttered open enough to glance up to him.

Nodding his head, he sat down the needle and thread, picking up the wash cloth that laid out in the bowl. He rung out the excess water and started to clean the area around and between her stitches.

Feeling the cold wet rag touch her bare skin caused her to nearly jump in the bed as a shiver ran down her spine. Clenching her teeth as she felt the cold and dampness rub around the sensitive parts of her back. Her fingers clawing at the sheets that laid underneath her as a small whimper escaped past her lips.

"Dearie?"

"It's just cold and a little painful…"

Undertaker eyes widen underneath his bangs as he looked down at the cold wet rag in his hands. It hadn't even registered that the water was cold; he was so use to using cold water when it came to washing his guest body that when he went to get water to clean around her wounds, that it should be warmer. A small ping of guilt vibrated through his chest with a frown coming right behind it. He moved to go fill the bowl up with warmer water, but suddenly stopped when a delicate hand hesitantly grabbed his wrist, a smile forming on her face even as tears trailed down her cheeks.

"No…it's fine, please continue."

Swift nod of his head and her hand returning to the bed, he returned to cleaning around the wounds. The area around where he was cleaning were still sore and would be for a little while. Nerve fibers, connective tissue, and muscles were still healing underneath her skin, which would cause some pain with a fair amount of pressure was put on it. Her hands gripped the sheets once more, teeth biting down on her bottom lip to prevent any sounds escaping from between her lips. He worked quickly and efficiently, replacing the cold wet rag with a slightly warm dry rag, carefully moving the rag around the area where to he cleaned to dry her off.

"Do you want something for the pain, dearie?"

Sapphira softly shook her head, her teeth releasing its hold on her bottom lip. "No…I'm alright."

Undertaker frowned at her response when he laid down the rag and picked up the antibiotic cream. It was obvious she was in pain, yet she tells him that she's fine. Angels often don't feel pain; at least the ones that stick around in heaven. If they do, it's nothing like the pain she is going through now. Was she not feeling the pain? Did she even know what pain feels like? So far, she's acted she hasn't seen certain things before in her entire life. Is it possible that she was angel who solely sat in heaven and had no idea about the human realm? Probably. She hasn't said anything about her being an angel or anything, so either she lost her memory or she's just hiding since she doesn't have her wings and don't want to be sent straight to hell.

"Dearie~ Do you even know what pain is? What does it feel-,"

"Yes, of course I know what pain feels like! There have been moments where the pain was bad enough for me just to lay still and not feel it much, as if it was just a burning sensation. Then there are other times that pain has been so intense, so sharp, so…unbearable that I have just wanted to scream."

Undertaker was slightly taken back and startled by the outburst she just had. That was one thing he was not expecting coming from her…and he _love_ the fact she kept surprising him. The more he was surprised and learned, the more it was worth it had been to bring her back to the parlor. He was yet to be disappointed by her, and that made him very excited.

He started to rub the antibiotic cream onto her stitches, and almost automatically, he could feel her whole body tense, her breath was hitched in the back of her throat. Hands grabbing a fist full of sheets as tears slipped even more through her eyes. Sapphira could feel the coolness of the cream burn into her stitches, as if it was melting the threads that held her wounds closed straight into her back. He moved to bandage the wounds quickly, but with each touch to her back and shoulder; she was slowly becoming to be on the verge of screaming.

"Breathe, dearie~"

He could tell that she was trying to breathe, but it was just not happening. His frown deepening across his face he continues to watch her. Her knuckles were turning white from how hard she was grasping the sheets, her body shaking from the pain, tears poured down her face, her lip sucked into her mouth with her teeth clamping down onto it. If she knew what pain was, then why the hell was she still holding off on doing something about it? Granted, he could give it to her regardless, but he wouldn't be a good gentleman if he basically drugged her and knocked her out from feeling the pain. He curiosity started to get the best of himself, as a question escaped past his lips.

"Why do you want to feel the pain?"

Amongst the pain, the burning sensation, the feeling as if someone was repeatedly stabbing her in the back, and phantom feeling that something was missing from her back. A feeling of heaviness was missing, but it was replaced by lightness and nothing being there put her at ease. Cracking her big sapphire blue eyes open, he could see they were filled to the brim with tears and filled with a sense of dullness…but they were smiling. The dullness that filled the deepest of sapphires was smiling. Her lips parted to let out a whine, while her hands gripped the sheets until they were at the point they were going to rip underneath her strength.

"Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live. That's why I want to feel the pain…because it's a very important of our life…it makes you feel alive."

Undertaker's face broke out into a grin at her words, his body cackling internally at what spilled out of the fallen angel's mouth. Not once did he ever believe that he would hear those words coming from an angel; it was like words to his ears. She was right, on so many different levels. Humans had no concept of what she had said; they all feared death and pain. They rather live their life pain free and scared of death lurking around the corner. Sapphira seemed to feel a different away. She felt as pain was what made her alive, that death was not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss was not being alive and dying while you are still living. Something he's seen in more people that he would want to admit. His hand started to play with the center locket on his hips as his lips curled into a wider grin; he was beyond being curious about her now. He was _intrigued_ by how her mind was working. Was this what cast her out of heaven? Was her love for pain and even death what was going to send her to hell?

So many questions that needed answers, yet he knew those answers would come in due time once she was fully healed.

Grabbing the rag and holding it over the bottle of either, he tipped it back until the rag was slightly soaked. Leaning down to Sapphira, he held the rag up to her face, while patting her head. Wanting to give her some comfort and soothing words before he put her to sleep for a bit. Pain may make her feel alive, but the Undertaker was not going to have her suffering while she was under his care.

"Gu hehehehe, you truly intrigue me, my sweet angel~ This will ease the pain so you can rest, that will help you recover faster." Undertaker explained as he slowly lifted the rag to her face.

"I have some quest-," Gently shushing her by laying a finger against her lips, his head tilted to the side, that trademark smile of his never faltering from his face.

"We have all the time in the world to talk. Now, get some rest, dearie~"

Reluctant to breathe in the ether, she knew that he held a sincere smile and his voice nearly acted as a lullaby itself. Taking a deep breath in, she could feel herself slowly becoming light headed and feeling as if the world around was slowly growing darker. Her vision became cloudy, only seeing him pull back from her with the rag and feeling a hand running over her head, nails slightly scrapping against her scalp. It…oddly enough felt good, but she wasn't sure if it was from she had breathed in or the fact it really did feel good.

Her eyes grew increasingly heavy, her lips slightly parted enough for her to mumble out something loud enough for Undertaker barely to hear.

"My…name is…Sapphira."

With that, she fell back into a deep slumber as she had earlier that day. His smile grew across his face once he saw that she was fully asleep. Quietly grabbing all of his supplies, he snuck out a free hand to lift the sheet back up over her and pulled up the sheet on the bed to give her some warmth, but giving her back enough air to breath.

Creeping toward the door, his eyes turned back to the woman sleeping soundly in the bed. He knew with the help of the ether and how much pain she had endured that she would be out into morning the earliest. Which was great, he was beyond exhausted and was ready to go to bed…but he couldn't. As he had focused on treating and fixing her wounds the rest of that day, that he totally forgot about the guest that was left sitting in the front room.

He mentally slapped himself for letting himself forget about his guest; but he did have a delicate, curious and very intriguing fallen angel to take care of. He knew his guest was not going anywhere anytime soon, since he's dead and all. Giggling at his own little mental joke, he slid out the door and stuck his head in for one more peak before he went and attended to his guest before he went off to bed.

"Good night and sweet dreams, my Sapphira~"


	3. His Canvas

**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews, follows, and favorites!**

 **Teddy Bear Moony: Thank you so much for the love! My husband saw the points to Gryffindor and nearly died. He's such a Harry Potter fan.**

 **DreamingofReading: D'awww thank you! I'm glad you are loving this sorry. Makes me happy to hear! ^-^**

 **Blackshadow390: Thank you much, love! It makes my day when I see reviews like that. ^-^**

 **Ana: Undertaker's personality just makes it seems like he would like anyone and anything that is out of the ordinary, especially if they make him laugh and catch his curiosity~ Sapphira is a sweetheart and is oh so curious about the world that surrounds her, which goes along with the saying; curiosity killed a cat, but satisfaction brought it back. ^-~**

 **So, I started to read this book called "Justine, or the Misfortunes of Virtue" by Donatien Alphonse Francois de Sade, also known as Marquis de Sade and as I started to read it; it started to play in my head about some things to why Sapphira had fallen from heaven. So, you'll see parts in this story will she will be reading the book, as I plan to type out every single chapter of the book she reads, and when she reads things that she has no idea of what they are; poor Undertaker gets the pleasure of explaining to her what they are. Knowing him and his teasing ways, he probably shows her some things. My, what a naughty reaper he is~**

 **Now, on with the story!**

* * *

 _When death embraces us,_

 _tenderly touching our lips_

 _to steal our final breath,_

 _surrender willingly to its seduction,_

 _for we must give ourselves completely,_

 _heart and soul._

 _We should not be afraid,_

 _for this is nothing to fear_

 _from the inevitability of death._

 _It is the ultimate adventure_

 _to an unknown destination_

 _where the revelation of the mysteries_

 _comes to all._

* * *

Brilliant gold and orange hues bled like fire in the east over the rivers and beyond the snow-covered city. The first slither of the sun peeked over the skyline in a radiant, white form. Gradually it raised, a defined circle in a vibrant backdrop. The rivers were liquid gold and silver, leaving the mighty city of London dull in comparison. As the sun fully revealed itself it seemed to swell, losing its focus and spreading like a rapid wild fire, glistening the blanket of soft snow that cover the cobblestone, as if the roads were covered in millions of diamonds. Drawing people of their homes to see the beauty that laid at their feet.

These soft rays that should have brought warmth to a new day only acted to solidify the reality of winter's cruelness.

Ah, winter could be so cruel. Blessing the world with blankets of beautiful soft snow; beautiful enough to make people want to go out and touch, soft enough to make people want to go out to play in and make snow angels as they lay in the soft fluffy snow. If one took the right precautions, one would be safe from the mercy of the harsh temperatures and only suffered a slight chill. If one didn't take such precautions; they would indeed suffer the wrath of winter's love for the cold temperature. The bitter cold would kiss their bodies with the same loving care as the undertaker with the recently departed.

Bitter freezing temperatures would give them love with just a simple deathly kiss; undertaker would give them love in making them beautiful again for the biggest day of their lives.

Death can be very giving, loving, and beautiful.

Well, only to those who see death that way.

Orange rays kissed the black curtains that hide what laid behind them in the Undertakers Parlor. Streaks of sunlight penetrate the gaps of the curtains and lit up the bed in a beautiful soft glow, only to shine up to the young woman's face who slept soundly enough to almost be considered dead in the bed that surrounded her in warmth.

Drowsily, Sapphira opened her eyes to the soft glowing light, to only blink a few times and drag her hand up to her face, rubbing her knuckles onto her eyes. Pushing slowly off the bed, she could feel that the pain that was so prominent yesterday was comfortably subdued, most likely blotted out by whatever she had smelled yesterday when the man held the cloth to her nose.

Folding her legs out from under the sheet, dangling her legs over the bed above the dark wooden floors.

Raising a hand to her throat, she could feel the slight irritation still lingering, but the soreness and rawness was nearly gone.

These were good signs of her recovery; which she was excited for. Slipping off the bed, the feeling of jello returned to her legs, which moving slowly and light steps made it easy to walk with such a wobbly sensation. Now that she could move without as much as pain, she wanted to do something desperately; something that burned within her core. In the back of her mind, this feeling felt familiar and her heart sped up as this familiar feeling spread across her like a rapid wild fire.

Her mind wanted to explore; she desperately wanted to explore everything around her. Her heart started to beat rapidly at the curiosity that surrounded her, it felt new and different. It felt…excited. Yes, that was it. Her soul lusted for the excitement and curiosity that lurked all around her. Mind, heart, and soul were all in sync with this feeling, which meant it was the right thing to do.

Clutching the sheet to her chest, she saw the door that she had come through yesterday with the man who had brought her in. Seeing the same knob as the one she had seen in the previous day, she did what she had done by accident. Turned the knob and pulled the door open as quiet as she could, trying not to sling it open like what happened yesterday.

Poking her head out the door, she looked both ways down the hall, not seeing or hearing a single soul. Hands snaking around the door, gripping onto the wood frame.

"Is anyone there?" Her voice was quiet and barely echoed through the hall.

Turning her head once again, seeing that no one was around to respond to her question.

Moving past the door to go into the hallway, her bare foot halted above the wooden floor. Her mind flooded back to yesterday when the floor creaked, alerting her presence to the three men, being only separated by a curtain. It was the man with such an infectious laugh and beautiful smile that had made them leave before they saw her. The same man who helped her and took care of her.

Taking very light steps into the hallway, she decided to check out hallway since she was dragged up here, everything had been a blur. Noticing a door right across from her that looked the same as the one she had slipped out. Grasping the knob and turning it, slowly pushing the door open and poking a head in. The room was mirrored after the room she had stayed in, but with everything looking the same, she decided to not investigate further. There were more areas to discover.

Quietly closing the door, she moved on a door that was to the left of the room she had left. Once again, she poked her head in to see what was hiding behind this door. This one was very different, with tons of books laying all around the floor and on the walls. Sitting in the middle of the room laid a large desk that the books sat on top of, with a black wooden chair which sat against the desk.

Slowly walking into the room, her eyes widen in amazement with everything in the room. Walking up the desk, her hands lightly ran over one of the books that laid scattered across the wooden surface.

"Justine, or The Misfortunes of Virtue…" Sapphira murmured, reading title of the book as her fingers traced the words. Taking the book into her hands, she opened the first page, her eyes scanning the words as she started to read.

 _O thou my friend! The prosperity of Crime is like unto the lighting, whose traitorous brilliancies embellish the atmosphere but for an instant, in order to hurl into death's very depths the luckless one they have dazzled. Yes, Constance, it is to thee I address this work; at once the example and honor of thy sex, with a spirit of profoundest sensibility combining the most judicious and the most enlightened of minds, thou art she to whom I confide my book, which will acquaint thee with the sweetness of the tears Virtue sore beset doth shed and doth cause to flow. Detesting the sophistries of libertinage and irreligion, in word and deed combating them unwearingy, I fear not that those necessitated by order of personages appearing in these Memoirs will put thee in any peril; the cynicism remarkable in certain portraits (they were softened as much as ever they could be) is no more apt to frighten thee; for it is only Vice that trembles when Vice is found out, and cries scandal immediately it is attacked._

 _To bigots Tartuffe was indebted for his ordeal; Justine's will be the achievement of libertines, and little do I dread them: they'll not betray my intentions, these thou shalt perceive; thy opinion is sufficient to make my whole glory and after having pleased thee I must either please universally or find consolation in a general censure. The scheme of this novel (yet, 'tis less a novel than one might suppose) is doubtless new; the victory gained by Virtue over Vice, the rewarding of good, the punishment of evil, such is the usual scheme in every other work of this species: ah! The lesson cannot be too often dinned in our ears! But throughout to present Vice triumphant and Virtue a victim of its sacrifices, to exhibit a wretched creature wandering from one misery to the next; the toy of villainy; the target of every debauch; exposed to the most barbarous, the most monstrous caprices; driven witless by the most brazen, the most specious sophistries; prey to the most cunning seductions, the most irresistible subornations for defense against so many disappointments, so much bane and pestilence, to repulse such a quantity of corruption having nothing but a sensitive soul, a mind naturally formed, and considerable courage: briefly, to employ the boldest scenes, the most extraordinary situations, the most dreadful maxims, the most energetic brush strokes, with the solo object of obtaining from all this one of the sublimest parables ever penned for human edification; now, such were, 'twill be allowed, to seek to reach one's destination by a road not much traveled heretofore._

 _Have I succeeded, Constance? Will a tear in thy eye determine my triumph? After having read Justine, wilt say: "Oh, how these renderings of crime make me proud of my love for Virtue!_

 _How sublime does it appear through tears! How 'tis embellished by misfortunes!" Oh, Constance! may these words but escape thy lips, and my labors shall be crowned. The very masterpiece of philosophy would be to develop the means Providence employs to arrive at the ends she designs for man, and from this construction to deduce some rules of conduct acquainting this wretched two-footed individual with the manner wherein he must proceed along life's thorny way, forewarned of the strange caprices of that fatality they denominate by twenty different titles, and all unavailingly, for it has not yet been scanned nor defined._

 _If, though full of respect for social conventions and never overstepping the bounds they draw round us, if, nonetheless, it should come to pass that we meet with nothing but brambles and briars, while the wicked tread upon flowers, will it not be reckoned – save by those in whom a fund of incoercible virtues renders deaf to these remarks-, will it not be decided that it is preferable to abandon oneself to the ride rather than to resist it?_

 _Will it-_

 _Pop!_

"Hahaha, you missed me!"

Sapphira yelped out in surprise, nearly jumping from the spot that she had been standing in. She had started to read the book that she had picked up, and was drawn into the first chapter that the sudden noise and the sound of a childish laughter had brought her back to reality. Noticing that something was scattered across the windows, she laid the book down and quietly crept toward the window. Peeking out from behind the curtain, she could see the window had liquid dripping off the glass, and looking down she could see and hear kids laughing as they ran around one another, and rolling around in the white fluffiness that covered the ground.

Tilting her head to the side, her eyes followed the kids as they played with one another. Lips slowly turned up-side down, desperately searching her mind for any memories doing something like that. She knew they were children, she knew that they were running around in circles…but exactly what were they doing she had no clue. Yet, she couldn't remember doing anything like herself when she was a child.

 _What exactly are they running in? It's pure white…_ her hand absent mindedly went straight to the long single piece of her right sideburn, staring down her own pure snow white hair, feeling the soft and silkiness slip right through her fingers. _It looks so beautiful and soft._

With curiosity peeking her interest, she quietly escaped out of the room, pulling the door a little behind her. Making her way to the stairs, she took one step at a time, holding onto the walls if it was for dear life. The stairs were a little steep, and it wouldn't do her any good if she were to fall, but with each steep step there was, she could feel small flare of pain in her back, but it wasn't enough to stop her curiosity. Finally reaching the bottom of the stairs, she saw the hall that she was familiar with.

 _If my memory serves me right, the far down at the end on the left is the room I first woke up in, and right across from it is the room where I first laid my eyes on the source of the infectious laughter_

Seeing two more doors along the left side of the door, she decided to see if one lead to the source of her curiosity.

Opening the first door closest to her; the only thing she found was tons of different sizes, shapes, and color…well she really didn't know what they were. If her memory was correct; which was severely lacking in that category, she thought she saw them in the front of the building when she was watching everyone the group of men yesterday. The room was almost pitch black as the walls were painted in a dark color, one that she couldn't quite tell what color it exactly it was and there was only a small window and nothing else, it would be best to leave. Quietly closing the door, she moved onto the next door that was right next to the workshop.

Poking her head in, she saw was in a completely different room than she was just in previously. It wasn't as dark as the other room, but it was painted in a dark crimson red color. Sitting in the middle of the room was a dark brown wooden table and a couple of chairs sat around it. There was also a sofa that sat flesh underneath a window next to a fireplace, a couple of logs sat right in front of it as if someone was going to light it soon. Curious to know what those things were, she got a glimpse of a doorway that was open, soon pushing those things out of the way and slowly walked into the open area.

It was a small kitchen, but it was sufficient for one or two people that live there. A couple of cabinets lined the wall around where the ice box sat, with a few opened shelves that sat right above the oven. There was another small table inside with two chairs that sat from across one another. There was a small window that looked out into a small area, which sat over the sink. Next to the sink was another door, but this door looked like the one she had got a glimpse of when she saw the front part of the parlor. Bee lining for the door, her heart sped up as her hand landed on the door knob; she had no idea what she was going to find one the other side of the door, but she wanted to know. She _needed_ to know if she was going to find what she had saw from the window upstairs.

Turning the knob with slow movement and slowly pulling the door open, her curiosity was greeted with surprise, unknown, and beauty.

The air immediately is frozen lace on her skin, delicate and cold, like winter waves on sallow sand. One beautiful orange hues that seemed like fire in the sky, washed with grey, watery light illuminating thin patches to brilliance. Stepping a foot outside, she was greeted with the feel of softness that had a hint of crunch sound with every step. Her feet started to feel wet instantly from the snow, as the feeling of coldness drifted up her entire body, winter slowly kissing her body leaving every open patch of skin with a rosy tint. She could feel her teeth chatter quietly and feel the burning sensation in her back, but it was a welcomed feeling as the cold seeps into her body, numbing her until she ceases to bend properly.

The branches hang low with the weight of the snow, as the two small trees that stood around waved high in the air.

She stood completely and utterly still, the snow that blanketed the ground all around and shined like millions of tiny diamonds, reflected in her big sapphire eyes.

One could feel the air around being completely heavy as small snowflakes started to fall yet once again from the sky above. With each breathe, her lungs were filled with sharp cold and frost each time she breathed in, causing her to slightly cough.

Bending over, her hand grasped a small amount of snow as she brought it back up close to her face. It was cold, soft, and very wet. Deep down, she developed a strange feeling that she has never seen this before, but she didn't know why she felt that way. She couldn't remember if she had or not seen it, but it doesn't matter much anymore.

Within a matter of a minute or two the ice just melted a little under her hand, enough for her fingers and palm to be wet. Rubbing her fingers together, feeling the wetness and amazed by how it had left her hand red, with an odd stinging sensation seeping down straight to the bone. Clenching her hands back to the sheet to regain what little warmth is there, her eyes slowly started to wonder elsewhere.

Everything around was covered in a beautiful blanket of white, she couldn't tell what color anything truly was. Eyes following heavy snowflakes that started to fall, white rain from the heavens fell faster and faster, as she twirled around in amazement, as the snow almost mimicking her eccentric twirling.

"It's…so beautiful." Sapphira spoke out loud in wonder, watching her misty words float into the frozen air and dissolved in hushed beauty.

The once gentle breeze turned in a guest of wind, causing a ruffle in the bottom of her sheets, raising it up in the air. Clutching the sheet to her small frame as much as she could, she closed her eyes from the stinging irritation from the sheer amount of wind blowing in her direction. Which she didn't account for; was another strong guest of wind flinging snow right into her face.

"Ah!" She yelped, immediately wiping the snow off her face, but what she didn't account for was falling backwards, landing bottom first into the snow. It was a gentle and soft landing, but soon it started to become very wet and cold. Flinging her arms around herself, her teeth started to chatter once more. Someone was missing…well, it was more like a couple of people were missing.

"If I remember correctly, the kids were doing something like this…" She thought out loud, looking in every direction around her. She was all by herself, with what looked like walls surrounding her, but underneath the white blanket of snow, they looked to be made of the same thing that the doors inside were made of.

Taking a second look around, this was not the same place that she had spotted the kids just a little bit earlier. Before when she looked out of the window, she didn't see any trees, no walls, and the area they played in looked bigger than where she was currently sitting. Before she could call out to see if maybe they were close by, another voice seemed to cut in.

"Dearie, what exactly are you doing~" His voice sang through the heavy air, as if his voice cut through the air as if it was a blade.

She turned to the sound of her name, she could see him standing in the doorway where she had left through. Placing a finger against her blueish tinted lips, she tilted her head as she spoke. "Well, I heard some kids out and got curious to see what this stuff was." Her finger left her lips as she traced it through the snow, eyes slowly meeting his face, curiosity and wonder was etched into her face. "Can you tell me what this stuff is? It's really beautiful."

"It's called snow, hehe~"

"Snow?"

Undertaker sighed as he made his way through the snow with a frown across his face. She looked and acted as if she was child who had never seen snow before. He had the urge to run a hand over his face, but he knew that she probably never seen such a thing before. Poor little sheltered fallen angel, she had much to learn. He wasn't sure how she could sit in the middle of the snow in just a sheet...she had to be freezing to death just sitting there. He knew the best thing to do would be to get her inside and warm her up.

Gently laying a hand on her arm, he quickly yanked his hand away from her body. She was bloody freezing, feeling as she first did when he had discovered her in the snow in the alley way.

"You're chilled to the bone, we need to get you warmed up and out of that soaking wet sheet." Undertaker got her off the ground and ushered her into the parlor. Laying his hands on her shoulders, he guided her over in front of the fire place. Shoving a few pieces of firewood into the fireplace, he took a match and lit the fireplace up.

"Oh, what is this?" Curiosity over took her, as she reached a hand for the fire. The heat she felt was so inviting and comforting, as it eased the feeling she had felt only moments ago, outside. Before her hand made connection to the fire, Undertaker snatched her hand with the shake of his head.

"Don't touch the fire, dearie~ We wouldn't want your beautiful skin to get burnt by the flames, now would we?" He snickered.

"I guess not…" Drawing her hand back to her chest, she shuffled closer to the fire, wanting to absorb more of the heat. "It just feels…nice."

Undertaker chuckled as he added another log into the fire. "Well dearie, you were just sitting out in the bitter cold, feeling a little heat would feel nice~"

Sapphira tilted her head, staring up at him. "What do you mean?"

"Hehehe, such a naïve angel you are~" Poking her cheek with his nail, he twirled behind her as he spoke. "It's winter time right now in London; the temperatures can get very cold, like today for example, which can cause the snow you saw outside to fall. You're attracted to the heat because you were freezing to death out there."

"What is Lon-," Sapphira was silenced by the finger that laid on top of her lips, a grin spread across his face as he spoke.

"All in due to time, dearie~ Now, warm up to the fire while I get something for you to change into." Undertaker started to skip out of the room, only to stop at the door and turn back toward Sapphira. Wagging his finger as he giggled. "Remember, no touching the fire."

Giving him a nod, she watched as he disappeared out of the door, only to return her attention back to the fire. Lowering herself down to the floor, she folded her knees underneath her, scooting as close as she could, drawing in all its warmth that it has offer. The flames curl and sway, flicking this way and that, crackling as they burn the dry wood. It's so good to feel their warmth, even if is from only one direction. She watched in hypnotized joy, holding her hand out to get just a little more of the gentle heat.

Though the air wasn't smoky, she could smell the wood as it burned. Sapphira could feel corners of her eyes burn from the tears that threatened to escape her eyes. She hated the fact she didn't understand a lot that was going around; how she knew some things, but other things were as if she had never heard of her. Her muscles moved at the memory of things; but other times she had to trained her muscles to learn new things. No memories, but her could remember odd things. It was as her memory could recall anything, but her life.

In the back of her mind, she could feel something lurking; but she didn't know what it was. Her heart felt as if it was broken, but she didn't know why it was broken. Her soul felt like it had plunged into the darkness, but she didn't know why it was in the darkness. Her eyes looked dull, but she didn't know why she lost her light.

Her eyes dripped with tears. Salty drops fall from her chin, drenching the already soaking wet sheet. She slowly climbed to her feet, and pressed her head against the cool window that sat behind the couch. Sapphire blue eyes stared back at her…so innocent.

"I am anything but innocent." Her voice cracked as her body trembled. She couldn't stop. Even as she pressed her against the window it shakes, it trembles. It's raw, everything, raw tears, raw emotions. Something her mind couldn't put together.

"I can't stop…I can't stop. Why can I not stop crying?"

"Sapphira?"

Sapphira had snapped her head up and turned around to see Undertaker, tilting his head to the side. The normal grin that was always on his face was nowhere to be seen; it was a tight-lipped. She couldn't see his eyes for his bangs, but just by his voice. It wasn't the usual one she had heard the last two days; this was one that was serious and laced with concern. He must've heard her cries for the reaction she had gotten from him. Down casting her eyes, she held her hand to her mouth; she didn't want to be seen like this. Not with her eyes filled with tears, with rosy tear stained cheeks.

"You don't remember anything, do you?" She shook her head. "You feel lost with no sense of where home is, where you are from, or worst yet; who you are, correct?"

"I don't know anything, I can't remember anything past yesterday, and I don't have the faintest idea who I really am. I just know my name, that's all. I get these strange feelings and I don't understand them."

Undertaker nodded his head, slowly walking over to where she stood. His index finger wiping away her tears as he spoke. "Tell me, how do you feel? What is your mind, heart, and soul feeling at this moment?"

Sapphira bit her lip as she thought about it; that was the tricky question. What does she feel? There were so many different feelings, yet there was no way she could describe them all. At least, not just yet. Being honest with herself, she answered with the words that could escape her lips with little trouble. "My mind wants to desperately explore everything around," Laying a hand over her chest where heart was. "My heart starts to beat rapidly at the curiosity that surrounds me and it feels…excited. My soul…there is one word that describes the feeling, but it feels as if it is forbidden, my mind desperately tries to erase it like the rest of my memories, but it can't."

Undertaker's eyebrow shot up underneath his bangs, a twisted grin crept across his face as his own curiosity peaked a little. "No?"

Sapphira shook her head. "It's hard to describe, but it feels as if it's forever etched into my soul, as if it is a part of who I am."

"What's that, dearie~"

"My soul lust for the excitement and curiosity that lurks all around me."

The words that left her lips broke him. He wrapped his arms around his side, as he started to laugh hysterically. It was so funny; the whole situation was just hysterically funny. An angel who had fallen from the heavens, her wings ripped straight out of her back, on a one-way ticket to hell, ends up landing between the two realms. No memory of who or what she was; no memory that she was an angel from heaven. No memory of her wings being ripped out. No memory of being casted out of heaven. An angel who was doomed to fall into the depths of hell and eventually turn into a demoness. Her curiosity was enough to cause her to fall. Whatever she learned or wanted to learn; it was severe enough for her sentence to be hell. Oh! This was worth the effort of saving her. Did she lust for the pain? Did she lust for death? The two things she spoke of yesterday, as if someone had rekindled her memories for a split minute. Granted, he desperately wanted to know what she was so curious about that to the point _lusted_ for it, but he had to settle for what she did feel. Regardless, she was still giving him the best laugh he has had in a long while, it was worth enough for him to give her information on what she was.

Where would the fun be in telling her that she was a fallen angel, anyway. It may prove to give him more laughter and drive his curiosity even more with her not remembering anything.

"Gu Hehehehe hehehehehehehe!"

Sapphira smiled slightly at the sound of his laugh, even if she had no clue what the hell he was laughing about. She watched as he recovered himself, his finger that had wiped her tears, slid underneath her jaw, pushing it up so she could look at him. The twisted grin he wore grew only bigger as he spoke.

"Dearie, I may not know who you are, so I can't give you the answers you seek~" He watched as her face faltered slightly, her dull eyes fighting with all its power to fight the tears that swelled up inside of her. "But, I can _give_ your mind the exploration it wants, _make_ your heart feel the excitement it so desires, and _feed_ your lust for curiosity you desperately crave~"

He watched her face closely, her face still showed a pained expression, eyes still downcast toward the ground-that was, until his words had struck her like lightening.

She smiled. Just a little smile at first, but as it grew, it pressed her rosy cheeks up and slowly reveled her teeth, like a perfect pearl necklace. Finally, the smile reached her eyes, causing them to crinkle at the corners. She may not get the answers that she so desperately wants, but she's offered something sweeter. Her curiosity was offered a deal that she simply could not refuse. That lurking feeling in the back of her mind; it felt pleased. The feeling of a tiny shard was put back into her broken heart. The feeling of her soul plunged in darkness, shivered at the endless possibilities that laid in front of her.

"You can?"

Undertaker cackled, poking her cheek as he spoke. "Hehehe, I'll make you a deal, sweet angel~ I could use some help around here in my parlor, mostly working with the guest's families, cleaning, and paper work. I so loath paper work." He huffed. That was one of the few days that he hated the most; all the paper work he had to do. "In exchange, I will let you stay here since you have nowhere to go, while making sure that your desires and curiosity is fulfilled. All you have to do is ask, dearie~"

Sapphira mulled over what he had said, before nodded her head. There was one thing she had also wanted, but wasn't sure how to until now. "Okay, but can I ask for one thing?"

"Hehe, of course dearie~"

"Your laughter."

Undertaker tilted his head in confusion, withdrawing his finger from her cheek. His laughter? She was a fallen angel, not some kind witch. So, what was she getting at. "My laughter?"

Fidgeting with the sheet against her chest, her eyes cast downward to the ground, her voice growing softer with each word. "Your laugh…it's beautiful."

"Beautiful, eh~"

"Yes, it was the first pleasant sound, that I had heard after waking up. I…want to hear it again."

He watched as she grew timid under his gaze; not once has ever said his laugh was beautiful. It was more described as; creepy, inappropriate, haunting, disgusting, and evil. Yet, here before him, stood a fallen angel, who thought his laugh was beautiful and pleasant. She was quite the interesting one.

"Gu hehehehe! My my, dearie, you sure are a very interesting lady."

"Is that bad?" Sapphira tilted her head in confusion.

"Hehe, not at all. Now, come along, I have something for you to change into~" He sang, snatching her hand, dragging her back up the stairs as he had done the day before. Slipping into the room that she was staying in, she saw the simple white gown that laid on the bed. It was a hell of an improvement from what she currently had wrapped around her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him gather towels, bandages, cream, and bowl of water. Knowing he was wanting to change the bandages on her back and make sure everything was healing nicely with her back. Slowly, she lifted herself on the bed and lowered herself, laying her head in the direction of where she could watch him do most of his work.

The mortician couldn't help but chuckle at how she remembers things so quickly. Pulling the sheet down, he gently removed the bandage left side of her back to see how that side was healing. The area was still a little red, as was the swelling. Which did not surprise him one bit, as it probably be couple more days until the redness and swelling would completely go away. The stitches were still as perfect as he had first stitched them. It pleased him to see that everything was going good on that side. Which left the right side that needed to be checked.

He was hoping that it wouldn't be a repeat of yesterday, where he had to re-stitch a few spots and knock her out with either from how much pain she was in. Slowly, he pulled off the red bandage to see what the outcome of that side had been from yesterday.

The redness had diminished just a little, now evenly matching up to the left side, with the same amount of swelling as the left side had; but overall it looked better than yesterday. Closely inspecting each stitch, he found that they were still as perfect as how he had made them. Closing in on the three he had to re-stitch, he saw they were thankfully staying in place and not trying to tear apart on her. Tightening the knot at the end did help after all.

Finally, they were all up to his standards now.

Dipping the rag into the water, he began to work on cleaning the stitches and around them. He heard her initial sharp breath intake and felt her slightly tense under him, but that was it. He was unable to see her face from the direction that she was laying her head in and he hadn't heard a sound but her breathing, so he wasn't quite sure if she was in pain or not.

"Sapphira, how's the pain?"

Immediately he could feel the muscle tension melt away, being accompanied by a small humming sound. "It hurts more when a huge amount of pressure is put on it or if I bend over, it feels right as if there is a lot of heat in my back with something sharp that comes along with it."

"I figured as much, dearie~ you are healing nicely, but it will be a little bit before you get your full strength back. Be at least a month before you can wear proper clothing, wearing a corset right now would mostly definitely aggravate the healing and delay your healing."

"Corset?" Sapphira asked as she slipped off the bed and over to where the gown laid.

"Eh, it will be better for me to show when the time comes instead of explaining it." Undertake chuckled, snatching the gown off the bed and grabbing something off a nearby shelf. Turning back to her as he spoke. "Now, go into the bathroom there and get changed into these. I'll be out here waiting for you."

"Oh, okay." Practically shoving the clothing into her arms, he whisked around and gently led her into the bathroom, only to close the door behind her. Leaving her alone and very confused.

She looked down at the black cast-iron tub that sat in the on the left side of the room. Her hands ran over the tub, taking in every detail and feel of it. It was a smooth, yet strange feeling, one that she could not really describe. The legs attached to the tub poked out underneath it and looked as if it had claws digging into the floor.

Glancing over, she found a simple black sink that had a mirror right above it. Creeping toward it, she noticed a reflection in the mirror.

A young woman with long snow-white hair and big sapphire eyes stared right back at her.

Jumping slightly at the reflection of a woman, slowly moving her hand to touch the mirror. Her eyes widen as she saw the reflection mimic her movements.

That is when it came to her; the woman in the mirror was her.

 _So…this is what I look like. It feels odd…seeing a reflection of myself._

"Dearie, is everything alright in there~"

Sapphira yelped at the sound of his voice through the door. "Y-yes, sorry. I'm coming."

Dropping the sheet to the ground, she slipped the gown over her head, she watched it slipped easily down and ending at her knees. The pleated sleeves went all the way down to her wrist felt a little tight, but it wasn't to uncomfortable. The pleated neckline dipped into a V-shape slightly into her chest, but still covered her modestly. Like her sleeves, it felt a little tight across her chest, but that was not to uncomfortable either. Overall, she liked the way it fitted her and felt nice to be able to move both arms freely then holding up the sheet with just one of her arms.

Now, the next question.

How did she put on what she had in her hands?

It looked and felt like the same material that the gown was made out of, but it looked rather short…and had a hole on each side. Well, her arms both had something on them, so they could not go there. Looking down at her legs, she noticed that they were bare.

"So…I guess I slip my foot through each one…and-"

"Hehe, I forgot to mention, the undergarment that I gave you with your gown goes on underneath~" He cackled from behind the door.

Well, at least he told her before she somehow did something wrong.

Slipping the undergarment, she found that it stops a little above her waist and was slightly snug in the hips. Smoothing down her gown over the undergarment, she gathered the sheets in her arms and slipped out the bathroom, where a cackling mortician with drool running down the side of his lip was standing.

"How does it fit~"

Sapphira gave a small smile as she stared down at herself. "It's a little snug in the arms and chest, as the undergarment is snug in the hips, but it fits pretty comfortably."

He had to agree with her, it was slightly tight snug in her shoulders and arms, as it was in the chest. One could see how endowed she was in that nightgown, but thankfully only him would see her like that. He wasn't exactly going to complain about it, he was a man after all. Snickering slightly behind his sleeve. "Well, it did belong to one of my previous guest, but it was only one of the few gowns that I knew would probably fit you."

Laying a finger against her lip, she looked over her shoulder and frowned slightly. "Though it feels weird to have anything laying on my back…as if it doesn't belong there."

Undertaker immediately knew what she was talking about and with the wave of a hand; he went on to dismiss her worries. "Don't think too much of it dearie~ The mind can play tricks on you if you aren't careful."

"Oh…"

"Now, come along dearie~ There is something else I want to show you." Grasping her wrist, once again dragged along to another room. This time it was the room that she was in earlier and had found the book that she was interested in. Immediately rushing over to the desk, she picked up the book she had been reading and smiled.

"Hehe, I take it you were in here earlier~ such a curious angel you are." Undertaker snickered as he approached one of the many book shelfs, grabbing several different books.

"Mhmm." Humming her response, clutching the book to her chest. She desperately wanted to read it again, but felt it would be rude to get so absorb into the story like she had earlier. Watching with keen interest, she tilted her head as she questioned his movements. "Why do you have all those books?"

"Well, dearie, remember how I said if you helped me out around you, I'd fill your curiosity and desires, remember?" She nodded her head. "Well, for the next few weeks you'll have to wear gowns like you are wearing, so you won't be able to interact with people."

Sapphira frowned at his response and looked down at herself in confusion. "Is something wrong with my appearance?"

Undertaker nearly cackled at her response, she was just so simply naïve. It was hard for him not to laugh at her responses. Rubbing a finger across the bottom of his nose, he shook his head with a low chuckle. "Not at all dearie, it's just not the proper attire to meet people in~ I'll have something for you once you are able to wear it."

Laying the books on the desk, he started to lay each one out as he explained. "In the meantime, I want you to stay up here and learn everything that you can. These books have in-depth knowledge of how to deal with people, how to do chores, what my job as a mortician does, history of this country, and about a person's everyday life."

"This wouldn't be a problem if I hadn't lost my memory." Sapphira frowned, her eyes adverting to the ground. It troubled her that she couldn't remember a single thing about herself or know much of anything going on around her.

"Sometimes losing every memory about yourself is a good thing~"

Looking up at him, she couldn't help but smile at his grin that always seemed to linger his face. "It means you get to start over; not having to remember every little bad thing that has happened in your life is a blessing to a lot of people. You're now a blank book that is just ready to be written in." He knew that would put her at ease and he was right; humans would give anything to be able to not remember all the bad things that had happened in their past. Instead of some boring blank book, he hated writing with such a passion. She was more like of a blank canvas; a beautiful blank canvas that he could paint and design. This was the first step; he had the pain brush in his hand, now all he had to do was to figure out what he wanted to paint.

"You're right, but I have a slight problem." Holding a hand out toward the books, chewing on her bottom lip. "There is a lot of…words, things, and meanings that I am very unsure of. If I can't find you to ask…what am I to do?"

"Hehehe, I figured that could be a problem, so I found this for you." Slipping a book from under his robe, he laid it on top of one of the books. "This here is a dictionary, it has every word and its meaning listed, in alphabetical order. Whenever you find a word you don't understand, you can immediately open this, and look for the word that you are looking for."

"A dictionary, huh?" Keeping her book kept clutched to her chest with one hand, using her other hand to run over the front cover of the dictionary. It amazed her that such a thing existed; it made her slightly better knowing that there were hours out there in the world who didn't know as much as her.

 _Jingle. Jingle._

"Gu fuehehehehehe! It appears I have a new guest! Now, dearie, you just stay up here and learn until your heart is content~" Undertaker cackled, scratching his cheek with his nail as he drooled slightly.

"Thank you so much. For everything…oh." Sapphira tapped her finger on her lip, tilting her head in confusion. "You never told me your name."

"Hehe, you never asked, dearie~" Waving his finger in a tsk motion as he chuckled, causing her cheeks to turn slightly pink in embarrassment. A giggle slipped through his lips as he watched her reaction. "Such a cute reaction~ Everyone calls me the Undertaker."

With that he slipped out of the door, leaving the fallen angel to her own work. His grin widens as he laughed behind his sleeve. Oh, this was so very interesting. She wasn't going to be a disappointment at all.

 _Hehe, this is going to be fun. Oh, the possibilities I could draw on that beautiful canvas, but what should I paint? Oh, so many ideas, all of which are so tempting~_

Sitting down at the desk, she looked over at all the books that he had left for her. So many to choose from, yet she had no clue where to begin with. It was almost tempting to pick back the book she had been reading, but what help would she get from that book? Knowing it would be best to save it for last, she decided to pick up the dictionary. There were two words that were troubling her; one that had been etched into her soul and another she had stumbled across while reading today.

"He said they were in alphabetical order…" Sapphira turned to the sectioned that started in the L's, scanning her eyes through multiple pages until she found the very word that lingered in her soul.

 _Lust: intense sexual desire or appetite; a passionate or overmastering desire or craving._

That explained her desire and craving for the excitement and curiosity, but there some new words she had never heard or at least remember hearing about before. Sexual, desire, and appetite. She knew she would have to look those up later, as for the moment her mind was curious to know what the other word meant. Flipping to the section where the S's started, her eyes and fingers scanned every word and every page until she found the exact word she was looking.

 _Seduction: an act or instance of seducing, especially sexually; enticement; temptation._

"Hmm maybe these other books will be able to explain more in depth…or at least the Undertaker will know."

Shrugging her shoulders, she decided to crack open the book that explained about a person's everyday life and what routines people have. Her curiosity was being driven to the edge of madness, she was more than ready and eager to learn about the world around her had to offer. A month may be a long time to some people; to her it would come quickly and she would take all the time she had to learn what she needed to learn and remember. The quicker she could obtain the knowledge and can help the Undertaker, the quicker he would give her curiosity all that it desired.


	4. Her Curiosity

**A/N: I must thank everyone who has read, reviewed, followed, and favorited this story. You don't know how happy it makes me when I get the emails, especially when I'm at work (40 hours a week at the hospital drains me; but at least my position lets me write my stories, so I can't complain too much) I do apologize that this chapter took a little longer to update. Between the lady being out this week who does my pre-certification for test had been out so I was super swamped with calling insurances to the point the moment I would get home, I'd crash until 5am the next day and I'd been sick for a few days. So, thankfully she came back today and I could relax and be able to finish this chapter tonight ^-^**

 **Ana: Oh yes, he has many things planned for the sweet Sapphira; though there are a few things that he may not be…prepared for as time goes on haha.**

 **Teddy Bear Moony: You aren't wrong there~ We all know how our Undertaker can be…a bit unpredictable. Guess we'll just have to wait and see~** **^_~**

 **Also, I realized I had accidently uploaded the previous chapter. Totally my bad. So, I deleted that and re-uploaded the correct chapter so that way it notified everyone. My apologies on the matter!**

* * *

 _A Dark Angel is set on fire_

 _With burning love and desire_

 _This feeling she never knew before_

 _Yet her mind is asking for more_

 _Rotten and dark she is inside_

 _A fallen angel of the night_

 _She curses for the feeling she calls Love_

 _It makes her feel like an Angel from above_

 _Yet her heart holds it light_

 _Because that's what comforts her through the night_

 _This fallen that you see_

 _Is the soul that hides inside me._

* * *

"Undertaker?"

"Yes, dearie~"

"May I ask, what exactly are you doing?"

It's been nearly a month since the fateful night that the Undertaker had found Sapphira lying unconscious in the snow-covered alley way after her fall from heaven. She was broken; her wings had been torn from her body, her soul was plunged into darkness, her mind wiped clean of all her memories, and her heart shattered in millions of pieces. She was an angel who had fallen from the heavens, doomed to live in hell for all of eternity, but by some divine force, she landed in between the two. Was it out of mercy? Was it out of luck? Was it out of hatred? What caused her downfall? Was it her lust for curiosity and for her heart to beat with pure excitement? What she was curious for? So many questions, so little answers. Yet, this didn't discourage the humor-craving mortician one bit. He absolutely loved games; this would prove to be such an exciting and thrilling game.

So, he offered her a deal.

He would offer her a place to stay while fulfilling all that she desired and whatever catches her curiosity, in exchange she would help him around the shop, cleaning, paper work, and with dealing with guest; well the guest that come in alive anyway. His guest loved him, but their families…eh not so much. Maybe a little bit of a woman's heavenly touch would ease their nerves in his dark, yet creepy parlor.

Sapphira took the deal without a second thought. She had no idea of who she was, where she was from, or what had happened to her. Her first memory was her waking up in the Undertaker's parlor; he had found her, taken care of her, and stitched her up. The only thing she knew was these strange feelings, and the curiosity that coursed through her body. He had offered her a deal that she could not refuse; it was almost like making a deal with the devil himself.

With no idea of how the world around her worked, what some emotions were and how did they worked, and what certain words or meanings meant. She was just one naïve little angel. With the help of the Undertaker; he had given her his entire study that sat right across from her bedroom. She had multiple books about different things that she had needed to learn, all at her disposal.

Driven to the edge of madness, she was more than eager to jump into the books given and learn until her heart and soul were content.

And that's exactly what she did.

With the wounds healing on her back, she could only stand to wear a night gown, anything more constricting than that would surely aggravate the stitches on her back and ultimately delay her healing. Undertaker had instructed her to stay upstairs and once food was ready, he would bring her down to the dining room to eat…if he remember too. Normally, he only would munch on his dog biscuit shaped cookies, and that was it. He didn't think angels ate, and didn't feel bad when she had never mentioned it…until she read one of her books about a person's everyday life.

Knowing he needed to keep the appearance up that she was human; he started to make her food, but soon learned, that she would only eat a little bit at time. Breakfast would only be one slice of toast or bacon, lunch would be one or two sandwiches, and dinner would be a small slice of meat and vegetable. Mostly she would eat on the cookies he made and go back to her reading.

That January had been a brutal one; with at least forty-seven guest coming in a three and half weeks' time. Nearly all of them were from the freezing temperatures or falling into the river, which displeased Undertaker very much. It was the last couple of bodies that were very unusual, yet intriguing, that made up from it. Something had happened to them, but he never said what had happened or who they were. He was unusually mum about the whole situation. There were somethings that he had to keep a secret; secrets that could kill.

He was mum about a lot of things. It wasn't because he couldn't or didn't want to talk about them. He was more than willing to talk about tons of things, make jokes, or play some games, but that didn't happen. There was one thing that displeased him about his innocent fallen angel; her curiosity was that of a Scotland Yard officer investigating a crime. Her nose was always in a book, reading and reading, to the point where he frowned and huff.

Yes, he promised that he would feed her lust for curiosity; but he thought it would be much more fun than just watching her read. She asked simple questions, but nothing that made him laugh or intrigue him. His beautiful canvas was slowly turning out to be a disappointment, but he hadn't lost hope. Not just yet.

Which leads to the current situation that was at hand.

Sapphira had a book open about the history of England, currently finishing up the last chapter and Undertaker's lease favorite topic, The current Queen of England, Queen Victoria. She was nearly done…until the mortician skipped into the study, humming quietly as he took a pile of books she had finished and laid them on the floor, plopping himself onto the desk, skimming over the chapter she was currently reading. His face immediately frowning, accompanying with a small huff, swirling a lock of her hair around his finger.

"Victoria, huh? I don't like her~"

Glancing up at him and back down to where she had stopped reading, she tilted her head to the side. "Thrown into ruling a kingdom at such a young age…must've been hard on her."

"She does nothing but sightsee from way up high, and forces eeee~very thing harsh and dirty on other people." He sneered as he snatched the book out from in front of her, tossing it to the side.

"I wasn't finished that book yet…" Sapphira squeaked, watching it land over to the side of the desk.

With the wave of his hand, he slipped off her desk and slipped behind her, pulling her out of her chair. "That old hag won't give you what you want. Now dearie, I do believe it's time to get you out of that night gown and into something more suitable to greet people in~"

Even though he was leading her back to her room, he knew her eyes must've widen at what he had told her. She was finally getting to go change into something other than a gown and finally get to explore the front of the parlor. Even at night, he never let her down there just in case he got some after-hours clients. Dead or alive, he still got guest that popped up randomly after closing time, several times of week.

"If you will, dearie, change out of that night gown~"

Her hands raised to the hem of her gown, slowly pulling it over her head. Undertaker turned his back to give her some privacy, snickering behind his sleeve at how naïve she really was. Peeking out from under his bangs, he could see the gown discarded on the end of the bed, along with her undergarment.

She knew to go to the bathroom and change clothes, yet she changed right there with him in the room. If it was anyone else but him, they would most defiantly take advantage the situation at hand. He knew he probably should've given her a book about proper lady etiquette; instead she just learned about the general etiquette.

If he had given her something like that, she probably would've gotten easily confused. The questions she probably would have on the subject would greatly amuse him, but sadly, he hasn't had any amusing questions.

"Dearie~ Why didn't you get changed in the bathroom?"

Sapphira folded her arms downward, nearly covering herself completely. "Well you told me to change and since, you didn't guide me to the bathroom like last time, I figured you'd just want me to change in here."

Turning slightly to looked at her face, it was bluntly obvious that there was not a hint of embarrassment on her face, yet she properly tried to cover herself in front of him. Undertaker gave a low chuckle behind his sleeve. "Next time, do go change in the bathroom, it's very un-lady like for a woman to change in front of a man that she's not married too."

"Married?"

Handing her a pair of black undergarment with small white lace on each side and turned his back as she started to slip them up. She quickly noticed how these only went straight to her hips and didn't cover as much as the pair she had been wearing, but at least these weren't as tight fitting. Before she could question the difference in the two, Undertaker started to explain the last question she had asked. "Marriage is a socially and ritually recognized intimate union between a man and a woman that establishes rights and obligations between them. "

"What kind of rights and obligations?"

Picking up the next thing, he handed her a black sleeveless chemise, which she slipped over her head. Hanging slightly off her shoulders, it went straight down to her thighs, hanging loosely against her skin.

"Now, this will feel a little tight and possibly may hurt a little, so just breathe for me dearie." With the nod of her head, he moved around to her back, brushing her long snow-white hair to the side. He could see the scars peeking out of the top of the chemise, and saw they were practically healed. The scars were slightly raised still and stood out against her white peach toned skin, but to him they looked beautiful. He wasn't sure if she had seen the scars or not yet, but he has told her a time or two that there would be some extensive scaring. They almost matched his scars that were littered across his body.

The corset was made of black satin with white lace trimming around the cups and around the bottom, with threads of red and black running through. It seemed liked an odd combination, but it worked, luscious and dark against the pale of her skin. He laced it loosely at first, noticing how even that simple start nudged her breast up, and he wasn't even remotely done lacing her up. Placing a hand over her back, he leaned her over the bed, making her grip the post as he was about to lace.

"The definition of marriage varies according to different cultures, but it is principally an institution in which interpersonal relationships, usually sexual, are acknowledged. In some cultures, marriage is recommended or considered to be compulsory before pursuing any sexual activity." He explained as he took hold of the laces.

Undertaker tugged, quickly at first, then steadily, watching her shiver as the corset bound around her. Sapphira had let out a soft gasped, doing her best to breath as he had instructed her too. As she exhaled, he tugged again until he couldn't pull anymore. Nimbly twisting the laces with his fingers, he tied them carefully, making sure they were knotted enough to that it wouldn't loosen up throughout the day.

Most men had no clue how to tie a corset, but for the Undertaker, tying a corset was as simple as tying a ribbon. Being a mortician had it perks. If one could stitch up a body, one should be able to lace up a corset.

Laying a hand on her waist, he could see where the corset had made her waist appeared tiny and shape her hour glass figure that she had. It had enhanced her breast even more, which worried him about if her dress was going to fit her or not. If so, then probably loosening the corset would be his best option.

"How does it feel, dearie?"

"Tight," Sapphira admitted with a soft gasp. She was doing her best to breath, trying to find patterns and ways of bringing air into her lungs, despite the confinement she was in, and after a minute or two seemed to get the hang of it. Her breasts rose and fell every breath, which she laid a hand across. "I feel the more I wear one, the easier it will be to breathe and function."

"Don't worry, dearie~ It will more comfortable the more you move in it. Now, step into this~" He grabbed the garter belt, kneeling to the ground, motioning her to step into the belt.

Sapphira couldn't help but blush slightly as her hands landed on his shoulders, steadying her from falling over as she stepped into it. The garter belt was soft against her skin, the metal clips from the suspenders felt cold against her skin, and his nails scrapping against her thighs that made her body shivered as goose bumps trailed up right behind his nails felt...sensational.

It was…an unusual sensation, but it made her heart beat in excitement. Whatever lurked in the back of her mind had approved of this, as if it wanted more. Her soul lusted for the curiosity of what exactly was this sensation and why did her make her feel weird? She didn't know how to ask him what she was feeling and she was feeling unsure if she even should ask him what that was about.

In the midst of her issue; something he had said previous dawned on her.

 _He said marriage established rights and obligations between a man and woman. So, is sexual a right only for a man and woman who are married? So, do you have to be married to be seductive?_

She opened her mouth to speak, but was quickly silenced by his giggle.

"Now, I want you to sit on the edge of the bed~ You'll be able to do this as well once you get use to that corset~" He giggled as he reached over next to her, picking up two black stockings. Removing her hands from his shoulders, she slowly sat down on the edge of the bed where he had told her to sit. "That belt I had slipped on you is what keeps these stockings on your legs from falling down~"

Still kneeling before her, he carefully lifts one foot and unrolled the stocking over her toes. He slid it up her leg until the top clung to her thigh, leaving her leg bare the rest of the way. Pulling the metal clip down, he attached the clip to the stocking, and tighten it slightly, making sure it would roll down on her or pull the garter down.

"Undertaker?"

"Hehe, yes dearie~"

"Do you have to be married to be seductive?"

…

…

…

Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait one damn minute.

What?

Slowly tilting his head to the side, the mortician sat in silence as he thought about what she had asked. He had given her the short version of what marriage was about; it's an intimate union that is both a natural institution and a sacred because it is rooted in the divine plan of creation. He had left out the last bit there because he knew that would be a whole set of questions that would take an entire day of explaining; best left in the dark until he had an entire box that went over marriage for her to read.

Oh! Oh, this was perfect.

Now _this._ This was what he has been waiting for! Such an interesting subject for her to be intrigued with. Not once did he ever mention seduction, but here she was asking about it. Was this one of the things that lurked in the back of her mind? Was this what made her heart beat in excitement? Was this what her soul lusted for? Seduction could cause an angel to fall from heaven; was this her true downfall?

Endless possibilities of what could have happened and it absolutely drove him mad that he did not know which one was the correct answer. For a man who had all the answers, this was one thing that he had a question with endless answers.

This had taken a sudden turn from her questions about everyday life; this made him die from laughter.

"Gehehehe hahahahahah~"

It was official, he was broke. Dropping completely to the ground, he rolled on the floor, cackling to the point of drooling all over himself. Gripping the stocking in his hand as he body shook in glee from the mere topic she had brought up. Finally, she brought up a topic that was worth talking about! Oh, this was such a delight. This was absolute bliss.

 _Hehe, what a delightful way to paint such a beautiful canvas. Now where to begin~_

"Undertaker…?"

He snapped his head up toward her direction, drool sliding down the corners of his mouth. She had asked such a laughable question. Did you have to be married to be seductive? Oh, what a naïve one she was. A twisted grin crept across his face as he studies her features. There was something she was completely unaware of; something that he knew that he couldn't exactly tell her just yet. Be it that he would be afraid of someone taking advantage of her or that he just wanted to drag out this a little longer for his own amusement.

 _At this moment, she was the prime example of seduction._

Smoky, hypnotic, and world-weary, Sapphira's voice had it all at that moment. Her index finger laid gently against her slightly parted pale pink lips, her cheeks dusted in a light pink tint. Those big sapphire eyes were full of a desire not yet satisfied, as if she lusted for the curiosity of what it was to be seductive. Between that and what clothes she had on now, anyone could take advantage of her like that. Full of lust and curiosity, yet so delightful and inexperience.

Just the way she had said his name nearly drew the poor man in, but she was a fortunate that he wouldn't do that to her. Sapphira did not have a clue of what she could do to a man, no idea how she could easily draw a man in and drown them in her those big sapphire eyes. Melody voice that belongs to an angel that could bring a man to his knees. Such an innocent and delicate face that could make a cardinal commit sin. She had no clue what any of that meant, and any typical man would have used that against her.

He did promise to feed her lust for curiosity, but he was also going to warn her on topics like that. It would be quite unfortunate for this fallen angel, his beautiful canvas, to walk helplessly into a situation like that.

"Hehe, no dearie~ you don't have to be married to be seductive." He knelt back in front of her, carefully unrolling the stocking over her toes, sliding it up her leg. "In this society, it's highly recommended that you're married before you have sex, but…" Once he was immediately finished clipping her tights to the garter, his hand snuck down to the middle locket that hung on his hip. His eyes narrowed slightly behind his long bangs as he spoke distantly with a smile that didn't fit his usual grinning face. "If you love someone enough, then it doesn't matter if you're married or not. The only thing that matters is that person, and only that person."

Sapphira bit her finger as she processed everything he had said, watching his hand fiddle with the funeral locket that sat securely around his hips. "Love? Sex?"

Patting her head gently, his usual grin returned to his face as he spoke. "I'll explain those at another time~ you'll have plenty of other things to mule over here soon, do not worry about those two things right now, hehe~"

"O-oh. Okay."

"Dearie~ Remember when I said to use the bathroom the next time you change clothes?" She gave a slight nod. "Hehe, well make sure you don't ever change in front of another man, including me, again after today." His hand slid from the top of her head down to her cheek, his thumb ghosted over her lips, his voice was husky, his tone serious. One that made her body shiver in anticipation. "One may lose self-control, taking full advantage of your unworldly beauty and they may end up _breaking_ you."

Nails digging into the blankets on the bed, a heated sensation built up into a ball in her lower stomach. Threads of an unknown sensation slid down her legs, into every toe…it had suffused her, carried her, and lifted her. She felt like she would suffocate as the feeling whiplashed her soul, blooming and radiating through her stomach and chest. White peach skin flushed, breathe caught in her throat, thick eye lashes fluttering from how intense the feeling was becoming.

The feeling of his thumb ghosting across her lips, the proximity he was to her, and hearing the words " _breaking you_ ", was all that it took to make her body shiver in delight, with the strange sensational feeling rushing through her body. It was strange feeling, but it felt simply…phenomenal. Her mind lurked with acceptance, her heart raced and pounded against her chest in pure excitement, and her soul lingered for more.

 _More._

She needed _more._

Desperately clawing at the sheets, Sapphira could feel the urge rushing through her veins. Her tongue darted around her lips as she worked on trying to locate the words that could describe the feeling she was having now.

 _Understanding?_

No.

 _Embarrassment?_

No, that isn't it.

 _Disinterested?_

No, not even close.

 _Anxious?_

Close, but not exactly it.

 _What is this sensation that is taking over my body? It feels…it feels…_

"Hehehe, dearie~ Time to put your dress on."

Sapphira snapped her head up to look at the Undertaker, who had stepped away while she was lost in the sensation and unknown feelings. Typical grin plastered across his face as he laid the dress across her lap. Sapphire eyes trailed down to the dress that laid on her, as her mind drawing a blank about what had just happened.

 _It's…gone._

"Now stand up and slip it over your head with the opening at the neck facing the front." Undertaker instructed, pulling an old looking full length mirror from the closet. Dusting some of the cobwebs off the mirror, he moved it to where she could see herself sitting on the bed. "Here you go~ You will can use this to see if everything is straight, hehe."

As quickly as the feeling had surged through her body and vanished, she made her way from the bed to in front of the mirror. Letting the top of the dress it hit the floor, she pulled the bottom of it over her head, gently sliding her arms through the sleeves. Hands immediately smoothing out the dress, as the Undertaker appeared behind her in the mirror.

It was a black dress that flows to her knees, white cuffs around her wrist, and around her neck the dress has a white fold over collar. Bottom of the dress was decorated in a white trim with the shape of crosses cut into it. Undertaker took a red ribbon and tied it underneath her collar, holding both sides together with a small black pendent.

"Well, my fallen angel, what do you think, hehehe?"

"There's…something missing."

Holding a finger against his lips, he tapped his foot several times as he looked her over. Something was indeed missing from her appearance, what was it?

The black dress with traces of white went magnificent with her white peach tone skin. The hint of red wrapped around her neck giving elegance to her beauty. The black pendent was the symbol of the darkness in her soul. Her snow-white hair hanged down her back to the end of her calves, with two strands hanging over her shoulders, ending just below her breasts.

 _That's it!_

Snapping his fingers together, the grey headed man slipped his hand into robe, searching for something.

"My, oh my, where did I put it." He murmured as he pulled out prayer beads, several crosses, and a skull. Sapphira stared in amazement of how much stuff he had stashed away in his robe…there was no way that could even be possible?

It was very apparent that he was in search for something. That was when she saw him pull out a very long black ribbon. Just like his hat, it looked slightly old and worn. Walking up behind her, he pulled her hair back up into a high ponytail, wrapping the ribbon around and tying it up into a bow, only to leave the two strands hanging over her shoulders.

"Now, what do you think?"

"Yes! I like it very much. How do I look, though?" Twirling herself around to look at him in the face, a smile gracing her lips, as a grin grew on his.

A finger scratched his chin as he thought over what she had asked him. His beautiful canvas now had the background painted out. The scenery was beautiful; breath taken even. It was a cold, dark night and fresh powder snow had just fallen. Leaving everything in its wake to look simply stunning; as if the snow redefected like millions of tiny diamonds underneath the shining light coming from the full moon.

"Hehe, my little angel, you look simply exquisite~"

"Exquisite?" Sapphira questioned.

"Extremely beautiful and, typically, delicate~"

Undertaker giggled behind his sleeve as he watched the fallen angel's cheek turned slightly red in embarrassment. Picking up a pair of black ballet flats, he sat them down in front of her. "Now, slip these shoes onto your feet and we can go downstairs, I'll be able to show you how to take care of the front room."

Sapphira's eyes lit up like the full moon like itself; her hands immediately clasped together, her hips swinging back and forth. "Really? You actually mean it?"

"Hehehe, of course, dearie~"

Without a second thought, she slipped the flats on and twirled around in a circle, a grin like his plastered on her face. "Am I presentable enough to interact with people?"

"Gu he he…more than presentable, you are a work of art~ Now, come along, we have much to do~" He sang as he snatched her wrist, dragging her out of the bedroom and down the stairs. She felt like history of repeating itself as she was dragged through the parlor at such a fast place. She had spent the first two days of her life here with him being dragged through the entire place, now she could finally move full reign within the entire building now that she could wear normal clothes and not just night gowns anymore.

Her job would be to keep the parlor clean, interacting with the living guest as he interacted with the guest they bring in, and fill out all the paper needed for the funeral and death certificate. With the first ten or so guest he had come in, he had showed her each time what parts of the paper work that needed to be filled out and what to put down. The only thing she didn't have to do was sign, since they needed his signature. After that, he gave her the rest that would come and had her fill them out, which she picked up on quickly. It helped him out to not have to do that; as all he had to do was sign it and take it himself. Of course, there was always one rule he had enforced when it came to filling out the paper work.

Write down the cause of death, but never question the families or anyone who brings the guest in about said cause of death. He had instructed her that if someone were to bring a guest after "closing" time, that he would personality take care of them and fill everything out, and not to worry her pretty little head about anything.

When it came to cleaning, it was easy to learn, but it was at first harder to do. In the beginning, she only dusted the desk and shelfs that were in reach, since the stitches running up her back and shoulders had prevented her from doing a whole lot. The more she used her muscles and the pain wasn't unbearable, she could sweep and clean the higher part of the shelves. She had organized all the books on the shelves and in the room in alphabetical order, much to the Undertaker's surprised. Finding a home for every book was a little difficult, but she managed to make a space on the shelf for every book. The only books that were not on the shelfs were the books that the Undertaker had given her to read.

Today was the first day that she would be able to put her social skills, as Undertaker called it, to the test. For the past month, Undertaker was the only person she has interacted with. Sapphira loved spending time with him, he was always laughing, which made her happy, and told her jokes. Of course, nearly all the jokes he had told, he ended up having to explain before he got a laugh out of her. He always made it a point to feed her curiosity, but there was only so much he could do for her, and he promised the moment her wounds had healed that he would feed her lust for curiosity to the point she would probably end up drowning. One being told that they would probably drown would frighten them to no end, but for Sapphira, she desperately wanted to know everything around her to the point of her drowning. Undertaker had promised her that if she was to drown, he would bring her back to surface for air, only then push her back down under to drown in it again.

Watching him disappear behind the dark purple curtain; the very curtain that Sapphira had peeked through before and saw the Undertaker for the very first time. Slowly pushing the curtain back, she slipped through, coming face to face with the grinning mortician. Her eyes widen in the amazement, as she looked at the room around her.

The room was painted in a hunter green color, with the only light coming in from the outside was from the double panel windows on the dark purple door. The room was littered with all kinds of coffins, something she first learned about in the book he had given her about what he did for a living. Each wall had a book case against it; mixed between books and jars full of…things she had no idea what the hell they were. Several shelves lined the wall around the room, mixed with different jars, objects of religions, and books. Picture frames were scattered around the room; grave yards, corpses in coffins, and churches. Sitting immediately to her right was a desk with a wooden chair with two skulls sitting on each post. Basically, everything you wanted to find in a funeral parlor.

Out of everything in the room; only one thing stood out to her.

"Undertaker…this room is completely filthy." She deadpanned.

"You wound me, dearie~" Undertaker whined.

Sapphira couldn't help but giggle a little at his reaction. She knew he kept the cleaning supplies in the closet where the kitchen and dining room were. Quickly disappearing into the dining room, she returned to find him slumped over his desk, with a bone-shaped cookie sticking out of his mouth.

The first thing she started to do was cleaning the cobwebs that lingered across the ceiling and upper right corners of the room. Holding one arm across her nose and mouth, she used her free hand to sweep with the broom. The room was entirely to filthy for this, as the dust came raining down on her, stinging her eyes slightly. Once the ceiling was free from cobwebs and dust, she moved on to the shelfs. Laying the broom against the walls, she took the duster and started working on dusting the book shelves.

"Hehe, dearie~"

"Yes, Undertaker?"

"Tell me a joke~" He giggled as he watched her clean some of the shelfs that hanged on the walls. She was light on her feet and quick at cleaning; she proved how efficient she was when she cleaned the rooms upstairs. He had the right idea to give her a book on how to be the perfect maid, which he marked the pages she needed to read and focus on. Trivial things such as serving a master and taking care of children were not important. She was his apprentice, for show at least, not a servant. Deep down, she was more than all of that. She was his canvas, to paint on and make an exquisite master piece. She was his fallen angelic doll, to dress up and make beautiful. She was his humor and entertainment, to make him laugh and keep himself from being bored.

Sapphira paused for a second, setting down the cross she had picked up from the shelf, so she could clean under. Tapping a finger to her lip, her mind searched a joke that she had read in a book. Amongst cleaning the study, she had occupied, she had discovered a book that had been buried under some cobwebs. She had learned that he was a very playful man and loved jokes…well, he loved anything that could make him laugh.

Which is why she studied that book enough to memorize all the jokes that were inside of it.

His laugh was infectious and she wanted more. She'd do anything to hear his laugh; which luckily didn't take a whole lot to make him laugh.

"What is the difference between Joan of Arc and a canoe?

"Hmmmm, I don't know dearie~"

"One is a Maid of Orleans, the other is made of wood."

…

…

…

….

"Gya Hahahahahahahahaha."

Undertaker fell out of his chair onto the ground, holding his sides as he laughed himself to the point where he started to heave. Tears rolled down his face, drool rolled down the corners of his lips, and his body rolled around on the floor.

 _Creak._

Sapphira turned her head toward the source of the sound, her eyes focused on the door that lead to the outside. A bead of sweat slipped down the side of her head as she had an idea of what was to come next.

 _BAM!_

Dropping her head with a sigh, she knew that would happen. The sign out front had yet once again fell from where it was hanging. This was a re-occurring thing; at least nine times a week that sign would fall to the ground. Sapphira was amazed that the sign had not broken yet, at least to her knowledge.

"Oh dear, I guess I should go fix it."

"Gu Fu, no dearie~ I'll fix it here in a bit, you just go back to cleaning." He was still laid out on the floor, his laughter dying down to fits of giggles. "That was a good joke, I hadn't laughed that hard since…"

"Yesterday." Sapphira finished for him as she started to work on dusting the paintings hanging around the room.

Crawling back up into his chair, he laid his head on his arms as he watched her yet again clean the parlor. Granted, he didn't mind the cobwebs or dust…as it made it look like the parlor it was, but he knew having her here, she wouldn't leave it like that for long. It was looking cleaner, but if it didn't sparkle like the sun hitting fresh powder snow in the building, he didn't care.

His hidden eyes followed her every movement and stopped to see what exactly she was staring at. His fingers immediately making their way to the middle locket on his chain, twisting and turning the locket as he watched Sapphira with keen interest.

It was a painting of a freshly made grave that was decorated in all white. She had dusted it off completely, her hand delicately tracing the painting with such care and fascination. The tomb stone had the engraving of a woman's name; white roses made into a wreath laid over the tomb stone has two to three dozen white roses laid out around it.

"Something catch your curiosity, sweet angel?" He was intrigued that of all the paintings in the room, _that_ particular one had caught her attention.

Sapphira had exchanged the feather duster for the broom and leaned against the broom, laying the tip under her chin. Her eyes focusing solely on the painting, "Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with grasses waving above one's head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace."

Twisted grin crept across his face, snickering as he spoke, "Death is a very beautiful thing indeed, but not everyone who is dead is truly at peace. There are some that…can't forgive life nor can they find peace." Raising a finger as he spoke, his grin bigger as he continued to speak, "You see, dearie~ Many a poor soul has had to suffer from the weight of the debt on her, finding no rest or peace after death."

Sapphira stared at the painting for a few minutes before she started to sweep up the dust that had gathered all over the floor from her cleaning of everything above the ground; especially from cleaning the cobwebs and dust off the ceiling and corners.

"Hmmm…"

Not taking her eyes off sweeping everything into one big pile, she heard him from over at his desk thinking about something. Though, that was another thing she has started to learn, there was no way in hell of telling what exactly he was thinking about.

Wiping the back of her hand across her forehead, she smiled at what she had accomplished so far. The room was staring to look better; the only thing left was to sweep out the pile of dust and clean the coffins. They needed a good washing and polishing.

"Do you have something I could…Undertaker?" Sapphira had turned around to find the seat he had preoccupied before empty. She hadn't heard him leave, so where could have he gone? Propping the broom against the coffin, she walked over the desk, peeking over it to see if maybe had fallen to the floor in a silent laughter this time. With no sign of the Undertaker, she shrugged her shoulders, and was about to go back to what she had been doing before, when something had caught her attention.

 _Jingle. Jingle. Jingle._

"Uhm…hello?"

Sapphira jumped from her spot, turning around to see a young woman had walked open the door to the parlor and nervously looked around. Giving a gentle smile, the fallen angel had walked up the young woman, nodding her head. "Hello there, welcome to the funeral parlor. My name is Sapphira, how can I be of some assistance?"

The young woman immediately relaxed when her eyes laid on Sapphira, feeling slightly better about having entering such a creepy parlor. "Yes, my father had passed away last night and I was curious to see how much a coffin would be."

Clapping her hands together, the white-haired woman tilted her head with a sad smile. "You poor dear, I'm sorry for your lost. I'd be more than happy to help you. Now, tell me what kind of coffin would you like?" She asked as she went behind the desk and grabbed an ordering form and fountain pen.

"Nothing to extravagant, just a simple dark wooden coffin would be nice."

Tapping the fountain pen against her cheek, thinking for a split second. "I think a walnut coffin would do nicely. The wood from a walnut tree is rather lovely and would be nice for what you are looking for."

"Walnut would be lovely! Do you think you could do just a simple white silk liner for him to lie in?"

"White silk would be absolutely perfect with the walnut wood." Filling out the order form, she glanced over at the young woman, laughing nervously. "Oh dear, I never did ask your name. I do apologize, what is your name?

"Please, do not apologize, I'm the one who didn't introduce myself when I first walked in. My name is Milly Pond." Milly bowed.

Sapphira tapped her cheek, tilting her head with a confused look. "How odd, you have two names?"

"Heavens no! Milly is my given name, and Pond is my surname."

Slightly confused by this, she returned to the order form that was laid out on the desk. How could a person have two names? She knew her name was Sapphira, but she wasn't sure if that was a given or surname? She wasn't sure if the Undertaker's name was just like hers. So many things to learn and it was one of those times that she had wished the Undertaker was around to answer her questions. Shrugging her shoulders, she went over the questions that were on the ordering form.

 _Creak._

Milly jumped from her spot on the coffin, looking around the dark and dreary parlor. "M-Ms. Sapphira, what was that?"

"This shop is rather old, so it makes strange noises from time to time. Don't worry, there is nothing scary lurking around here." Sapphira reassured with a smile.

"I-if you say so, than I shall take your word for it. About the time frame, do you think you could have it done in three days' time?"

"Hmmm…that's a little soon, but I do believe the Undertaker can get it done in three days. I'd have to ask him of course."

"Oh…so you're not the Undertaker? I thought you looked a little young, but I thought it would be rude to ask."

"Me, the Undertaker? Oh no, I'm just his apprentice." She laughed with the wave of her hand. Walking toward the purple curtain that lead to the back. "It will take me a few minutes to see if we have what we need for the coffin, so please remain here."

It felt as soon as Sapphira vanished, that the room grew very cold and unfriendly. Milly shifted uncomfortably in her spot as she glanced around the room. Candles that lit the room had gone out, leaving the only source of light coming in from the double panel window on the door. Gripping her coat tighter around her, she huddled into it for warmth.

 _Creak._

Cutting her eyes to the couple of coffins that lined up against the wall where the sound come from. Not a single thing looked out of place from what she could tell, so the sound must've been the floor boards from the upper part of the building. Sighing a little, she stared down at her feet, fiddling with the buttons on her coat.

 _Creeeeeeeeeak._

This time it had seemed that the sound had originated from exactly in front of her. Snapping her neck from the floor, there was nothing out of the ordinary that stuck out to her. Wrapping her arms around herself, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. Sapphira had disappeared behind the purple curtain that was in front of her, so it couldn't have been her. She did say the mortician lived here…so was it him? She didn't know what he looked like, but surely if he was here, he would've introduce himself to a client…wouldn't he? Maybe he was too busy preparing a body for a funeral.

 _What…What if there is body in this coffin I'm sitting on?_

Milly shivered at the thought of a body lying in the coffin underneath her. Of course, that wasn't thing that was going to shiver down the poor girl's spine. A pair of pale hands made their ways to her shoulders, long black nails gently digging into the shoulders of her jacket. A raspy, yet unnerving voice spoke from behind, digging their nails into her shoulder.

"He he, don't worry, I don't leave coffins out in the front with guest in them~"

Jumping out of her spot, she quickly turned around, not seeing anyone behind her. The hand on her shoulders, the nails digging in, and the eerie voice sounded so… _real._ Rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands, she blinked a few times to see that there wasn't anyone in the room with her.

Did she imagine all of that?

Who would even come up with that kind of voice?

There was no way that could've been real, could it?"

"I should thank you for being a test subject for my apprentice~"

"T-Test subject?"

Feeling someone move behind her, she felt the same pair of hands snake up her arms and onto her shoulders, a hot breath and unsettling voice speaking next to her ear. "You see, it was her first day and I was worried that she would get overwhelm, but you, dearie, were so nice and patient with her."

Immediately the hands disappeared from her shoulders and felt the presence vanish from behind. Her entire being shook in fear from the encounter then the phantom. That was what she had deemed the person to be, as she has not once yet to see this figure but just their hands.

"Gu fu."

Her head looked in every direction for the source of the laugh, but she couldn't see anyone. Was the loss of her father driving her insane? No, she was perfectly fine when Sapphira had been in the room. It was the moment that she had left that the entire parlor had turned into a bad nightmare.

"W-who are you?"

The room grew silent at her question, as she backed closer to the door. All she wanted was to be out of that nightmare; she could care less about the coffin right now. There were plenty of other places to go, but this was the closes to the hospital where her father had died at and she had heard that the coffins were good quality, for a reasonable price.

No one had forewarned her for what she was encountering thought.

"Who am I? It's simple, dearie. I'm Death~"

Milly jolted for the door without even looking back, just hearing those words alone was enough to make her leave. The last thing she wanted to meet the same fate that her father had met the previous night.

 _Jingle. Jingle. Jingle._

Right when the door had shut behind the scared woman, Sapphira had walked out from the back room with a piece of wood in her hand. Scanning the room for any signs of the guest she had, she found that she was left all by her lonesome. Laying the order down and piece of wood onto the desk, she walked over to the coffin that she had left Milly at.

"Oh, I surely hope I didn't take too long back there for her." Sapphira frowned.

A pair of arms snaked their way around her waist, drawing her to their chest in a loose hold, a chuckle filling the air around her. "Hehe, don't worry dearie, she had to be somewhere in a hurry~"

"Ah!"

Sapphira yelped and jumped at the feeling of his arms around her and the sound of his voice, catching her off guard in surprise. Falling forwards out of his arms, she ended up tripping over the coffin that Milly had been sitting on previously, she fell directly on her hands and knees into the pile of dust that she had swept up previously before she was interrupted. Drawing a hand to her mouth, she coughed into it repeatedly as the air of dust surrounded her entire being.

"Gu he he, did I scare you, dearie?"

"Y-yes you did." Coughing into her hand once before she spoke. "Where did the guest I had go?"

Undertaker laid a finger on his chin, looking up to the ceiling as if he was thinking. "Oh, she said she had to take care of something, but I told her that I'd deliver the coffin to her in three days' time and free of charge too~" Extending a hand down to the fallen angel, he helped her back to her feet with a snicker. "Did you not like my hug?"

"Hug?"

Undertaker chuckled as he wiped the grime off her cheek with his sleeve, "An act of holding someone tightly in one's arms, typically to express affection."

"Affection?"

"Gu fu, I'll explain another time dearie~ How about right now you go head upstairs and take a nice hot bath."

Sapphira hesitated slightly as she looked at the room behind her; there was so much to do. The pile of dust and dirt she had fallen in had spread out slightly. Plus, there was the coffins that needed to be washed and polish. There was also the order that she needed to finish filling out before she could give it to the Undertaker. It was apparent her eyes showed her thoughts, as he waved his hand and pushed her through the curtains and toward the stairs.

"I'll clean up the mess and finish the paper work, you go take a hot bath and relax~ You did excellent today." He praised as she shooed up the stairs.

Knowing there was no winning with the Undertaker, as he had the bottom of the stairs blocked and kept moving her up the stairs with the motion of his hands.

Hanging her head in defeat, she climbed the stairs and disappeared into her bedroom. Pulling the black ribbon out of her hair, she laid it down on the night stand next to the bed, along with the pendent and red ribbon, laying them down next to it. Pulling her dress over her head, she laid it down on the chair sitting across from the room. Unclipping the stockings from the garter belt, she laid them down on top of the dress.

Her hands reached behind her back and delicately started to pull on the strings that tied her corset together. The looser the strings got, the feeling of her waist slowly expanding back to its normal size and feeling her lungs quickly filling up with air, finally being able to expand to full capacity. She shed that, along with the chemise, garter belt, and undergarment, she piled those all on top of everything in the chair.

Slipping into the bathroom, she could see that the bath had been drawn already for her. Closing the door behind her, she walked over to the tub, dipping a hand into it. It was still a little hot, but it wasn't hot enough to cause her to develop scalding hot burns.

Sapphira dipped down into the tub and started to clean herself off from a day's worth of work…well somewhat of a day's worth of work. She was indeed covered in dust as it was all over her face, hands, and in her hair. Thankfully, with a little bit of soap and shampoo, she could clean herself with no problem. Scrunching her eyes shut as she poured the water over her head, she could feel the hot water slip down her face. For most people, they wouldn't enjoy hot water tricking down their face, but for her, she enjoyed it. It was comforting to her, plus it let her know that she had a big before it would start getting cold.

Slipping down into the tub, she noticed the book that had been nested on top of her towel. Reaching out to grab it, she saw it was the book that she had been reading when she had first found the study. With a smile gracing her face, she settled back down into the tub as she started to read where she had last left off at.

 _Will it not be felt that Virtue, however beautiful, becomes the worst of all attitudes when it is found too feeble to contend with Vice, and that, in an entirely corrupted age, the safest course is to follow along after the others? Somewhat better informed, if one wishes, and abusing the knowledge hey have acquired, will they not say, as did the angel Jesrad in 'Zadig', that there is no evil whereof some good is not born? And will they not declare, that this being the case, they can give themselves over to evil since, indeed, it is but one of the fashions of producing good? Will they not add, that it makes no difference to the general plan whether such-and-such a one is by preference good or bad, that if misery persecutes virtue and prosperity accompanies crime, those things being as one in Nature's view, far better to join company with the wicked who flourish than to be counted amongst the virtuous who founder?_

 _Hence, it is important to anticipate those dangerous sophistries of a false philosophy; it is essential to show that through examples of afflicted virtue presented to depraved spirit in which, however, there remain a few good principles, it is essential, I say,- to show that sprit quite as surely restored to righteousness by these means as by portraying this virtuous career ornate with the glittering honors and the most flattering rewards._

 _Doubtless it is cruel to have to describe, on the one hand, a host of ills overwhelming a sweet-tempered and sensitive woman who, as best she is able, respects virtue, and on the other, the affluence of prosperity of those who crush and mortify this same woman. But were there nevertheless some good engendered of the demonstration, would one have to repent of making it? Ought one be sorry for having established a face of whence there resulted, for the wise man who reads to some purpose, so useful a lesson of submission to providential decrees and the fateful warning that is often to recall us to our duties that Heaven strikes down beside us the person who seems to us best have to fulfilled his own? Such are the sentiments which are going to direct our labors, and it is in consideration of these intentions that we ask the reader's indulgence for the erroneous doctrines which are to be placed in the mouths of our characters, and for the sometimes rather painful situation which, out of love for truth, we have been obligated to dress before his eyes._

"Dearie~ I left your nightgown on your bed and took your clothes to wash." Undertaker called from behind the bathroom door.

"Oh, thank you Undertaker!"

Hearing the faint sound of a giggle coming from behind the door, Sapphira could feel the water slowly becoming lukewarm. Deciding it would be best to get out before she started on the next chapter, she exchanged the book for the towel, first drying her hair a little then her body.

Wrapping the towel around self, she grabbed her book and poked her head out from behind the door, making sure the Undertaker was not still in the room. Seeing the room was free from infectious laughs and riddles, she walked over to her bed. Laying her towel on the floor and the book on the bed, she slipped on the black long-sleeved night gown that went down to her ankles. Sliding a matching pair of undergarments on underneath the gown, she picked up her towel, taking it back to the bathroom to hang to dry.

Returning to the room, she grabbed her book from the edge of the bed and blew out the candle, crawling into the bed. Once her head sit the pillow and the book clutched in her arms, her eyelids steadily grew heavier with every passing minute. As her consciousness ebbed, her mind went into a free fall, swirling with the beautiful chaos of a new dream.


	5. His Motivation

**A/N: I just want to thank everyone for the reviews, follows, and favorites! You all are so fantastic! I seriously love and enjoy writing this story, I have such a thrilled and so many ideas for this story. ^-^ This chapter is a slight filler in the beginning, but it has its reason for being the way it is.**

 **Ana: This story actually takes place the year that Ceil is born; but in the sequel, I have planned, there will be interaction between the two. It's going to be interesting to see how Sapphira interact with Sebastian. Hopefully he'll play nice with the fallen angel. ^-^'**

 **Teddy Bear Moony: Yeah, he loves and hate the fact she's so innocent. It's fun to toy with her and he gets a kick out of the questions she's going to ask, but he wishes for some excitement. Though, at the same time, he does his best to restrain himself when her innocence turns seductive, for personal reasons that will be explored in the next few chapters. Time is supposed to heal wounds, and his wounds is far from healed.**

 **Now, on to the story!**

* * *

 _If you were to look into his eyes_

 _You would see his misery and hate_

 _He is the one who puts you into your coffin_

* * *

How things have changed in just a few short weeks. Spring is triumphing; vibrant flowers dancing in once somber fields. A soft, fragrant breeze lingers in the misty air, which has departed from its winter crispness. Blessed dew relieves the greenery from its icy frost and the blooming buds gaze intently at the crystal blue sky. Grass sprouts from the concealed earth, bringing new radiance.

Warmth spreads from the denuded trees, blossoms exploding, showering the frozen grounds with bursts of blinding colors. The plants unfurl their hidden brilliance and the somnolent creatures inhabit spring's territory once more. The sun rises gradually into the wispy clouds, strands of sunlight occupying the awakening land – brightening up the arrival of beauty, joy, and love.

Things have also changed in the last few weeks for people in the city of London.

With the harsh winter temperatures and weather dying down, warmer temperatures and little more sunlight peeking out from the clouds, meant that more and more people are coming out from their homes in the country and making their way to the city. Be it for social gatherings, school, events at the park, side markets now opening, business, or pleasure, the city was full with people to the seam. The once dreary and lifeless city was full of color and booming with life.

Yes, spring was such a wonderful and lovely time of year, but it was also such a dreadful time of year. More people meant more crimes were bound to happen. Be it during the day or late at night, bad things were always bound to happen. Bad people didn't care if it was the middle of the day or late at night; they always wanted one thing. To hurt someone. Be it by stealing a lollipop from a little kid, assaulting some guy who was minding his business on his way to work, terrorizing a young woman who was on her way home, or rob a nobleman point blank when he stepped out of his carriage.

Evil lurked every corner of London, and if one knew better, they would keep their head down and don't ask questions.

The price was always high when it came to evil. No matter if you were a victim, criminal, or fought to eradicate evil, there was always a cost. A cost that was so high and once paid, you can never pay with it again.

What was such a high price that it scared everyday beings to just ignore the evil around and mind their business?

Their life.

Death was the cost you paid when you danced with evil.

What happened to people paid such a high cost?

Why, they always ended up at the creepy and ever insane mortician whose parlor sat in the middle of the city. It sat in the section where people would often call it the Gateway to the Underworld. As most bad things happened in the East End of London, while crime was minimal in the West End. In the center of the city, it could go either way depending on the day. One day you may have a gruesome murder being committed, while another day may be as peaceful as a grave yard.

Most people tried to avoid the creepy parlor as much as they could. People who see him out in public often describe him as; creepy, terrifying, psychotic, and potential murderer. People who've heard tales of his great work with bodies who have been touched by evil; as they look more beautiful than they did alive. They come into the parlor with high expiations, and leave the parlor mortified and afraid for their life.

As if the Undertaker was death himself and just by interacting with him, you were doomed to die an early fate.

A theory that the Undertaker found amusing.

A theory that Sapphira had found interesting.

In the last few weeks, people who have visited the parlor have noticed…a certain light to it. They were expecting to see all the horror stories that they had been told. People spoke of talking to a disembodied voice, not once ever seeing him. Told tales of how he would rush over and invade their personal space, using his fingers and their bodies to demonstrate what had been done to them. Prepared them for the fright of their lives. Begging the heavens to want to know why, just why, that their loved one had to be brought to the most insane mortician that has ever lived.

Walking through the doors, they were ready to drop the money and run, but they weren't told or even prepared for what they had found.

They came face to face with the pleasant and ever so loving snow-white haired woman who was sweeping up the parlor.

Her presence washed away what fears they previously hold, her gentle touch eased their broken hearts, an angelic voice soothed their souls, and warm yet comforting words cleared their mind.

No one could believe such a kind and lovely woman could live with…such a person as the Undertaker.

Even though she gave comfort and helped the families with their orders, they still had to deal with the Undertaker when seeing the body and at the funerals. Granted, he did wonderful work on the bodies, the funeral and burial were beyond amazing…it could just be better without his extricate personality. Giggling at funerals was the last thing someone should do, but he didn't care. Didn't matter if people scowled or threw him disgusting looks, they had no clue why he thought death was so amusing. He just loved the dead.

He didn't care either; he did his job and that's that. Nothing more, nothing less. There was nothing left to do once the person was laid into the ground and buried. The day had been a dreadful one, one could only hope that there would be a perfect day coming soon.

As if the angels were listening to what they wanted; everyone got the wish that they had all wanted one.

The day was already starting out perfectly for so many people, with the air being filled with a warm and inviting presence. The sun bright and shining down on the city, filling even the darkest alleys with a hint of light.

Even the dark parlor was filled with light from the sun that shining through the only window into the parlor.

Sapphira hummed quietly as she swept the front room, while the Undertaker was out working. Today was the funeral and burial for their most recent customer that they had received a few days prior.

Nice young man met an early demise after he was hit by a runway carriage. Some young nobleman had taken it without permission from his home, not having a clue how to drive it. He was fine on the back roads as they were wide and no one was traveling at that moment. Once he had gotten into the city, that was in driving it had become tricky. He had done his best to move around people, but ended up yanking the reigns, causing the horses to jerk and go crazy. He was thrown off the carriage, ending up with a broken arm. The man the horses had ran over had suffered fatal blows to the head and torso, dying instantly when the one of the horse slammed a hoof down on his head.

People had called for the young man to be arrested; he had been the reason that the other man had been killed. It was his fault that the young man would never go home to his family. It was his temper tantrum that caused the man to never see the woman he was going to purpose to. It was his selfishness that caused a group of friends who had planned on traveling the world together one man short.

Did he regret killing the man? Not in the slightest, he was more worried about not being able to play in his upcoming cricket match. Charges were in the process of being filed while he was being treated at the hospital, but two days after the carriage accident, the charges were suddenly dropped and it was ruled a tragic accident.

Family had cried to Scotland Yard, asking them how could they bury their son and grieve in peace, while their son's murderer was out and about. Being the son of an Earl, it was very apparent his father bought his way out of jail and had even paid for the funeral and burial. Still, it wasn't enough to ease the minds of the family, but what could they do? They were commoners, lashing anymore toward a nobleman could just stir up trouble, much to their dismay.

Undertaker said he would be back before noon as the funeral and burial were being held at sunrise. Sapphira used this time while he was gone to get the entire front parlor cleaned and make the bone-shaped cookies that he loved so much, with some tea.

Returning the broom and dust pan to the closet, she made her way to the kitchen, snatching the apron from behind the door, she wrapped the black apron around her black dress. Pulling out two beakers and kettle, she sat the beaker on the counter as she filled the kettle with water. Watching the Undertaker do this plenty of times, she had gotten the process down pat. Currently heating the water up, she grabbed a black tea pot out from the top shelve, along with the tea strainer.

"Hmm…black tea sounds lovely." Sapphira hummed as she laid the strainer and pot down next to the beaker. Opening one of the shelves, she pulled out a small container of tea, using the tiny scoop inside of the container to measure out two cups per person and one extra for the pot. Removing the top and setting the strainer inside of it, she poured the leaves into the strainer. Seeing the water was still warming up to boil, she decided to work on the cookies.

"If I remember correctly, I need; sugar, flour, eggs, milk, cinnamon, honey, salt, and baking powder." Grabbing a big mixing bowl and wooden spoon to mix with. Placing everything down onto the able, she started to grab the flour and sugar, carefully measuring everything into the bowl. Remembering it took five spoons of flour and three spoons of sugar.

Next, she cracked two eggs and added seven tiny spoons of milk.

Sapphira opened a jar of cinnamon and took a small whiff, her lips turning upward into a smile as she added two pinches of cinnamon into the bowl. She loved the smell of cinnamon, it was spicy, yet sweet smell scent. It was something that the Undertaker always seemed to smell like, even when he was working with chemicals she could always still smell the scent of cinnamon on him.

Adding a pinch of salt, she now opened the jar of honey and added a spoon of honey into the mix.

Lastly, she added a small spoon of baking powder into the mix.

Taking the wooden spoon, she started to mix everything together. Humming a sweet tune, she danced around the kitchen, her dress swirling upwards and floating with her. Hearing popping and high pitched sizzling sound, she knew she had a probably had a few more minutes until the water was ready. Once it was firm enough to the point she could barely turn the spoon anymore.

Laying the bowl on the table, she gathered a handful of flour and spread it across the table for her to roll the dough out on. Brushing her hands off on her apron, Sapphira returned everything back to the cabinets and lit the fire to get the oven ready for the cookies.

Steam blew out from the opening on the kettle, a high-pitch whistling sound screeching through the entire room. Taking the kettle off the stove, she scooted over to where the pot was and slowly poured the water into the pot, until it was near the brim. Setting the kettle down, she moved back over to the flour covered table. Knowing she had between four to six minutes for the it too steep before it would be ready.

Removing the dough from the bowl, she rolled it around on the table to absorb some of the flour, before she took out a roller. Rolling the dough until it was completely flat was easier said than done. Undertaker had made it looked easy when he did it, but that was also the same man who could easily lift a coffin with no help. So, rolling out dough until it was flat would be easy process for someone like him.

"He made this look so easy." Sapphira whined as she continues to roll the dough out. It took several more minutes before the dough was completely flatten. Taking a scalpel out from the drawer, she carefully cut the dough into multiple bone shapes. Laying each piece onto a tray, sprinkling some sugar and cinnamon over the dough, she carefully picked up the tray, opened the door to the oven and slid the tray in.

Dusting her hands off on her apron once more, she made her way over to the tea pot, removing the strainer, emptying out the tea leaves into the trash.

 _Jingle. Jingle. Jingle._

Before she could pour herself a cup of tea, she heard the bell ring which let her know that someone had opened the door to the parlor. Untying the apron from around her waist and neck, she hung it up on the door as she walked to the front of the room. Walking immediately out of the back, she made her way into the front room, a smile stretching across her face.

"Hello, how can I help you?"

But the room was as empty as she had lost it. Her eyes scanned the room, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Sapphira frowned, taking a couple more steps into the room. Her hands clasped together against her chest, she took another look around the room.

"Hello, is anyone there?"

Laying a finger against her lip, she waited for a response, but she was only once again met with silence. Was it possible that someone had meant to open the door and decided not to come in? Was it possible that a child accidently opened the wrong door?

Or…could it possibly be?

A smile formed on her lips, as she shrugged her shoulders. Giggling behind her fingers. "Oh dear, I guess I'll just eat the cookies and drink the tea that I made, all by my lone-some~" She sung as she made her way back to the kitchen, only to feel something surround her presence. The feeling stopped her from leaving the room.

"Gu hehehe…. did I hear you say cookies and tea? ~" A voice giggled in the darkness.

A hand snaked around her waist, as another hand grasped her hand, twirling her around to face where the voice had originated from. Undertaker had a grin plastered across her face as he dipped her back, holding her hand into the air, while his arm wrapped under her arm, laying a hand on her hip. Squeezing his hand, her gentle smile grew bigger as her eyes stared into his, even though they hid behind his bangs.

"Why yes, the cookies should be about done in the oven and I just prepared some tea."

Undertaker brought her hand down to his face, inhaling the spicy smell of cinnamon off her hands. Darting his tongue over her delicate fingers, he tasted the sweetness of sugar. His grin only grew bigger as he watched her reaction; her eyes wavered in anticipation, he could feel her heart beating against his chest in excitement, and he knew her soul quivered with curiosity of what he was doing. He always found amusement in the way she would react to his words, touch and actions. Any normal woman would have found his words, disturbing and unpleasant. His actions, shameless and offensive. His touch, desperate and tortured,

Sapphira was different; not because she was a fallen angel and not because she didn't get embarrass as often as he thought she would. His words, delightful and pleasant. His actions, fascinating and energetic. His touch, anxious and warm. Perhaps it was because she did not have the faintest idea what anything he did meant, but that only amused him more. She was his beautiful canvas; he could paint her to be anything that he wanted her to be.

Though, lately he's noticed that she has had a lack…of drive for curiosity. He wasn't entirely sure if was due to not knowing what she wanted or if she was just comfortable with what she had already. He could show her, but where was the fun in that? He wanted her do it again, do it that time when he was helping her dress and she wanted to know what seduction was. He hoped it only be soon enough that she would fully awake and let it take over her.

"My, my, you are such a good little assistant. What kind of tea did you make?" He mused as he brought her back up to a standing position, loosening his hold on her hip.

"Black tea, of course. Now, excuse me while I go to the kitchen." Slipping her hand out of his, she made her way back to the kitchen and opened the oven, using the oven mitt to remove the tray of cookies. Laying them on the table to cool, she carefully poured tea into each of the beakers. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a pair of long finger nails reaching over her shoulder, reaching for a cookie. Slapping his hand away from the tray, she turned around to scowled him, wagging a finger in his face.

"Undertaker! The cookies are currently hot and it will burn your mouth." Cheeks puffed out like a squirrel, she shoved the beaker into his hands with a huff.

"Ge hehehehehehe. You're a funny one dearie~" He snickered as he yanked a cookie off the tray and ran from the fallen angel, who was about ready to smack his hand again. Grinning as he stuck the cookie into his mouth, sipping on his tea. He chuckled that she chooses a beaker over a tea cup; she really had started to grow accustomed to his way of life. "Simply delicious dearie~"

"I just can't win with you." Sighing in defeat, she grabbed an urn down from the cabinet and started to fill it up with the cookies. Closing the jar, she placed it back on the cabinet, only to be startled by the sounds outside.

"Hahaha you can't catch me!" The first voice laugh in excitement.

"Come back here Thomas!" The second voice screamed in frustration.

"You run to fast for me." The third voice whined in exhaustion.

Sapphira glanced out the window that sat right above the sink, grabbing her beaker and taking a sip. She couldn't see the children, but she could hear them clear as day. It was just like the time she heard them playing in the snow. She desperately wanted to see what they were doing, to see why they were laughing and screaming so loud. Her curiosity was peaked, she wanted to go exploring for the sounds, but…she didn't know where to start or where to begin.

Undertaker had already done so much for her, she felt wrong for asking him to feed her curiosity. Looking down into her cup of tea, her eyes wavered as she thought about what he had told her a while back.

 _I know he said he would feed my curiosity and all I had to do was ask, but he's done so much. He's taught me so many things, made me experience new feelings, and not to mention, he gave me quiet of few dresses and night gowns. I don't know what this feeling is…but it doesn't feel good_

"Dearie~ What are you doing?" Undertaker hummed.

"Just thinking."

"Ah-ah, none of that now. Thin-king will only jumble up your mind more than it already is~" Wagging a finger, he crept over to her, studying her expression carefully. She hadn't looked this troubled since the night he offered the study upstairs for her to learn with. Even though her bangs blocked her eyes, he knew she was raging a war inside with her. Something was up, and he was going to get the bottom of it, one way or another. Taking the beaker of tea out of her hands, he pinned her to the counter behind her. One hand steadied himself, other hand brushed her hair out of her face, his fingernail tracing her cheek down to underneath her jaw, pushing it up to so he could look directly into her eyes. She was not crying, but her eyes were full of an emotional he had not seen before in her.

 _Guilt._

That. That emotion was new. Negative emotions were not a part of her normal everyday personality. He's seen sadness, frustration, and a hint of anger…but never in the two months that she has been living there, has he seen guilt.

Brushing his thumb across her cheek, his usual cheery voice turning into a hushed tone. "Tell me, dearie~ What's eating at your mind?"

Sapphira bit her lip as she desperately thought about what she should tell him. She wanted to tell him that she was fine, that nothing was wrong and to go on with his work. That was the one thing she loved about helping him work, she was always kept busy, and it was usually enough to keep her from wanting other things. Normally she wanted small things; be it learning how to bake the cookies and make the tea or how to wash her clothes.

Yet hearing those kids outside had triggered something in her mind. As if she wanted to explore beyond the boundaries she had around her. But as much as he has done for her, she just couldn't help but not want to ask for anything else than she had. She had his laughter, she got interact with others, she got to help him out with everyday work, and she got to read all the books that she wanted. That was enough to fill her everyday need.

Until _now._

"Sapphira, I can't help you if you don't tell me what is going on in that head of yours."

He saw right through her. It was stupid on her part thinking she could hide it from him. He was the Undertaker and he always had a way of knowing things. He knew everything there was in this world and that always amazed her.

"Something's caught my curiosity and I know you would help me with it, but I can't help but feel…"

"Guilty."

Sapphira tilted her head, leaning into the feeling of his thumb brushing circles on her cheek. Her brows furrowed at the word he had mentioned. "Guilty?"

"It occurs when a person believes or realizes, accurately or not, that he or she has compromised his or her own standards of conduct or has violated a moral standard and bears significant responsibility for that violation. Is that how you feel?" Sapphira nodded her head, as he increased the pressure of his thumb on her cheek. "Why?"

"You've done so much, asking for you to feed my curiously just feels…wrong and selfish. I would get it all, but you wouldn't gain anything. All I wanted was your laugh, I could learn everything on my own."

Narrowing his eyes on her, he leaned in as close as he could, his hand covering her entire cheek, rubbing his thumb her cheek once more. His hand moved from the counter to her hips, holding her in place. She was so terribly naïve; he would give her whatever she asked, whatever her mind, heart, and soul lusted for, it would be hers. He obviously wasn't forceful enough when he explained the deal to her months ago. No wonder she didn't ask for much or anything interesting.

Even though she was fallen angel, she was still an angelic divine being, who couldn't bring herself to be selfish when it came to others. She wanted the excitement, she wanted her curiosity filled, but she barely ever asked him. Which explained why she relied on the books up the study so much; she didn't feel like she was bugging him so much when she had the books.

 _Her poor mind, heart, and soul must feel neglected~ I'll just have to fix that._

"Oh, my sweet little angel, we made a deal, did we not? That I will _give_ your mind the exploration it wants," His touch disappeared from her cheek, only to find his index finger laying against her temple, " _make_ your heart feel the excitement it so desires," His voice grew husky with each word as he finger slid down her face, under her chin, and down to her chest, stopping on top of her heart, "and _feed_ your lust for the curiosity that your soul so desperately craves. In exchange that you would help me like you've done around the parlor." Sliding his finger over her breast, finally settling in the center of her chest between her breast.

"But- "Sapphira was cut off by his hand moving back to her face, his thumb caressing her lips until he pressed them shut. His nails digging into her hips, pressing her back over the counter. Nearly closing the gap between them, causing her breath to be caught in her throat.

"Shhhhhh, darling~ I promised to make sure that all your desires and curiosity are fulfilled, did I not?" Nodding her head, a wicked grin crept across his face, his eyes peaked through his long bags. "Now, I want you to ask for me for what your mind is lurking for. Ask me for what your heart is so desperately excited for. Ask me for what your lustful soul is so curious for. Ask for it all and I will give it to you. No matter how big or small it is, you will ask me for what you desire and I'll make it yours."

She felt her knees growing weak against his hold, the same feeling of a ball developing in her lower abdominal started to grow. His hot breath spread across her face, his nails digging into her hip was driving her mad. Her eye showed how desperate she was for what he was offering. She wanted it, she needed it, and she had to have it. He was not his usual self, he was more demanding and serious. His tone was dominating and signaled that he was in control of the situation.

And she absolutely loved it.

"I…I – "Sapphira murmured against his thumb, but was stopped by his thumb putting pressure on her lips once more. His wicked grin growing only more twisted as he leaned her completely back over the counter, towering over her small frames. His nails digging into her skin to the point they would leave a mark. The next words he spoke would leave a permeant mark on her soul, her heart would cling to the excitement, her mind explore areas that she has never been or felt before.

"Someone once said that curiosity is the lust of the mind. Now, give in to the temptation, let it fill your mind, heart, and soul. You were so desperate for it when you first awoke, but lately it feels as you only fed your lust enough to satisfy the hunger. I want you indulge in it, devour it, and take it all as if you will never get to again. Will you tell me what you were curious for?" His fallen angel nodded, he leaned close enough for their lips to almost touch, he could see that those sapphire eyes of hers were full of lust and desire, ready to be satisfied.

Undertaker let up the pressure his thumb had on her lips, feeling her hands making their way to his robe, clinging on to him for dear life. Her body trembled in an unknown sensation, her face flushed from the heat that surged through her. Her voice had almost cracked from under the pressure, but she somehow managed to start speaking.

"I-I want to…I-I want to…"

"That's it dearie, tell me what you want~" He purred.

"I want to explore what lies past these walls and expand my curiously. I want to see the sources of all the sounds that I hear every single day."

Releasing the grip on her hip, he laid his hand on her other cheek and started to rub his thumb in circles. "Is that what you want?"

"Please, Undertaker." Sapphira begged.

There it was again. That smoky, hypnotic, and world-weary voice. Enough this time to make his entire being shudder as he removed his hands from her face. Between that voice of hers saying his name and begging, he wasn't sure if he could contain his self with the position they were in. Stepping away from her, he giggled behind his sleeve to the point he was drooling. He handed her the beaker full of tea before he skipped out of the room.

"Finish your tea dearie and meet out front in five minutes, hehe~"

Sapphira stood dumbfounded, staring at the door that he had quickly vanished out of. His personality had switched like it was nothing; going from his usual cheery and giggling personality to one that was dominating and serious, back to cheery and giggling. She was fond of his everyday cheery self, but when she saw that serious and dominating part of him…it made her entire being go crazy.

Gulping down the now cold tea, she could feel herself regain the feeling back in her knees. She was anxious to see what he was planning, but she was thrilled to no ends about what it could be.

Rinsing the beaker out into the sink, she left it there to clean later and rushed to the front of the parlor. Her head tilting to the side as he flipped the signed to close and opened the front door.

"Come along dearie, we got several hours of daylight before it gets dark~" Undertaker snickered as he held out his arm to her. "All you need to do is wrap your arm around mine and I'll take care of the rest, hehe~"

Sapphira only got enough time to wrap her arm around his, before she was dragged out of the parlor. She had no clue where he was taking her, but she knew she would be safe with him at her side. Her curiosity would be fed more than ever today and she was more than happy for what to come.

What was the word again?

Ah, yes.

She was absolutely thrilled.

* * *

So, thrilled might have been the word she thought would work, but after arriving where the Undertaker had dragged her too, another word came to mind that was a better fit to how she was feeling.

Sapphira felt like every fiber of her being was vibrating with anticipation. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins. Her hands trembled and her eyes were wide.

She was absolutely _excited._

Tingling from her head to her toes, she bounced on her flexing feet and rubbed her hands together. She wore the facial expression of a small child with an especially large Christmas present.

"Undertaker! Look at the people here!" Sapphira squealed as she clung to his arm, taking in the waves of people that surrounded them. She had only seen at most four people at a time when they would come to the parlor to pick out a coffin and plan the funeral.

"Gu hehehe, this city is filled to the seam with people~ Spring is the season that everyone from the country come to visit after winter. They come only for a short time before they leave back to their homes." Undertaker explained.

"So, is that why there are so many people gathered here today?"

"No dearie~ this is the Leadenhall Market, one of the oldest markets in London, dating from the 14th century."

Sapphira tilt her head to the side, questioning what he had told her. "What is this "Leadenhall Market" to be exact?"

"It's where people come to buy things that they want or need; food, clothes, toys, games, and many other things. Unbelievably, this is the only market that I like to come to. A shop around the corner here dedicate itself to obtaining all kinds of new inventions and ideas from around the world to do my job. I often learn new ways to work with my guest from these, as some countries are far more advance than England when it comes to working with the dead."

Staring up at him in amazement, as a child would when they learnt something new, she couldn't help but smile. It honestly made her happy when she learned about things that he liked. It may always refer to his line of work, but that was something he loved doing. As she loved helping him in any way that she could and getting to spend time with him, especially when she got to hear him laugh loud enough to cause the sign to fall.

Squeezing his arm slightly with hers, a giggle escaped past her lips as she spoke. "Well if you enjoy it, then I'm sure I will enjoy it."

Undertaker chuckled as he guided her through the mass waves of people, showing her through the main entrance. He was not sure what stores they were, as he never went in through the main entrance, but he knew it would be enough to entertain her. He had every intention of staying with her and guiding her through the maze of people. It was her first time outside of the parlor and he had brought her to one of the most crowded places that he could think of. It would feed her curiously to the point of where she would start to feel overwhelmed and drowning.

Something she needed to experience.

Jolting slightly at the feeling of his arm being tugged in an opposite direction of where he was walking, he found himself looking down to see Sapphira pointing toward one of the shops. Her eyes wide with excitement, as she started to yank on his arm again.

"Let's go check out what they have over there!" She grinned as she practically drug the poor Mortician to wherever her soul desired.

"Hehe, lead the way angel~"

The very first store that had caught her attention was a tea store that specialized in different types of tea, with a major focus in international teas. Undertaker had opened the door for her, watching her reaction with keen interest. She had nearly run him over as she made her way into the shop, eyes glued to everything that was around her. Sitting right in front of the door was a big table, to showcase all the newest teas that were now available for purchase. Spring time brought new types of tea that would fit perfectly with warmer weather and fresh air that made its way into the city.

Sapphira stopped short of the table to watch an elderly woman pick up one of the three small boxes that were happen to smell what was inside. Whatever it was, appeared to smell great as she gave a hum of approval and picked up one of the closed boxes that sat right behind it and walked off. Creeping toward the table, she picked up the opened box on the middle and sniffed what was inside, her eyes shooting wide open.

"The smell it's…foul." She muttered.

"That's one of our most popular spring time teas with young ladies your age." A deep chuckle could be heard from behind Sapphira, causing her to nearly spill the open box in her hands. Blushing madly as she hurriedly put the box onto the table in embarrassment, earning another chuckle from the man who had spooked her. "Didn't mean to scare you there, but that tea is very sweet and perfect for the spring time. It's called Fairy Tale, it's a delicious infusion that be enjoyed by fairies of all ages. Delightful and inspiring; that blend is full of flowers and fairy magic, with a little hint of mint." He joked toward the end.

Turning to face the man, she saw he was an elderly man who had peppered hair that was slowly starting to thin. He wore a simple black dress shirt with black pants, his glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He wore a sweet smile as he spoke to her, which made her instantly feel at ease.

"Ladies my age?" She asked.

"Oh yes, legend has it that Spring is traditionally associated with love, it's a time for happily ever after. Everyday many women your age is falling in love and finding their happily ever after."

"Love?" She mused as she picked up the tea and took another whiff. It had such a sweet and delicious smelling, her mind trying to remember if she had read anything about love. No, but she did remember the Undertaker had said something about it once before and it made her much more curious to know what this "love" really was.

"Fairy Tale is a beautiful beverage made of subtle white tea, strawberries, and of course; rose petals for everlasting love." The older man watched as her eyes focused on the box, her eyes looked like they were lost out in sea. Smiling kindly down at her, he gently removed the box from her hands as he walked over to a table that sat adjacent from the table where they had been standing and started to add the tea leaves to the pot. "Here, how about I make you a cup to see if you truly like it."

Snapping out of her trance, Sapphira smiled at the elderly man. "Oh, you don't have to do that. The smell was...not to my liking." She watched has his hand shakenly picked up the tea pot and immediately stopped him by laying her hands-on top of his, tilting her head, her smile not once faltering. She couldn't understand why he still made her a cup when she told him it was alright…did he not hear her? "Please, allow me to pour my own cup. Your hands are shaking, I'd be afraid you would drop the pot and make a mess."

He watched as she poured the cup of tea with complete concentration, speaking once she had sat the tea pot down. "My, you're entirely to sweet. You must've been angel in your past life."

Raising the cup to her lips and taking a small sip of the tea, she felt strange the very moment that the warm liquid touched her lips and slipped down her throat. Burning her tongue and twisting her stomach into knots, she wanted nothing more but to get sick. The tea didn't taste right, and it wasn't the scent or taste. No. Something deep down…made it worse. Her lips immediately formed a tight lip smile, setting the cup down. The clerk frowned as he rested a hand on his chin. "Is it not to your liking, dear?"

"No, sir. The smell is foul and the taste…is revolting."

The old man looked a little shocked to hear that, almost borderline upset that someone would say that about such a delicious tea. Not once had he had he come across a young woman who had disliked Fairy Tale, much less thought it was foul. To make it worst, she had out right told him what she thought, which in this day in age, women were taught to keep their opinions to themselves and not to show that someone was not of their liking in public, as it was considered rude and inpatriate. Where did she obtain such rude manners?

"Hehehehe, my sweet angel isn't very fond of white teas~"

The disembodied voice frightened the old man, the high-pitch cackle was loud enough to make his ears bleed. He hadn't expected that, nor expected that the very man to pop up right behind the young woman in front of him. He grew flustered and disgusted when he watched the Undertaker wrap one arm around her waist, drawing her close to him, with him laying his head-on top of hers. Plastered across his face was a creepy, yet ominous grin that caused the old man to return to his counter, as if he was to say anything toward the young woman would cause him problems. It was very apparent where she had learned her manners from, being in the company of a man like that.

Hearing that voice broke through her, his touch comfort the horrible feeling she was having from the tea. Whirling around until she found his grinning face, he kept his arm around her waist, her hands laying against his chest. Instantly feeling relief when her eyes laid on him, it was apparent to the mortician that a sigh of relief and content washed over her face. "Hehe, drowning dearie?"

Sapphira could only nod when she felt the Undertaker poke her cheek with his long nail, grinning big. "I told you I'd bring you up for air, but the moment we step out those doors, I'll push you back under~"

Nodding a second time, she was met by an open black container being pushed under her nose. Scrunching her face from the sudden intrusion, she could only take in a slight whiff of tea leaves, before she licked her lips in anticipation.

"I smell cinnamon…but I also smell something else, but I'm not sure what."

"Hehehe, that's citrus you smell~ This is actually my favorite tea, it's in between a green and black tea, also known as black dragon tea." Removing his hand from around her waist, he put the lid back on the can.

"What is it called?"

"Cassia~ Such a lovely name, it comes from the tree in China that grows cinnamon." He explained as he crept over to the counter, setting the can down as he searched his robe for his coins. "Hehe, I figured you would like this tea."

Sapphira watched as he paid for the tea, but couldn't help but feel something was off with the clerk. The man was so sweet and helpful when she first arrived into the store, but it seemed that after she had the tea he had looked at her like…well she wasn't sure. It was almost the same look that the families of guest gave the Undertaker when they would interact with him. Bowing her head after he had paid, she followed quietly next to him as she linked her arm through his. She had no clue what she could've done, the only thing she did was tell him that she didn't like the tea. Glancing up at the happy mortician, who was happily humming to himself as he held the bag to his chest.

"Undertaker, did I do something wrong?"

"Whatever do you mean, dearie?" He questioned.

"The man seemed so nice when we first walked in, but…after a while he looked at me the same way the families of the guest look at you. I must've said something wrong or did something that wasn't correct." She sighed with a frown.

Undertaker couldn't help but frown at her response. He had heard the whole conversation and knew why the man had looked at her the way he did. She was a woman who voiced her opinion on something she found unsatisfying. It was made worse when he walked up and wrapped his arm around her, but he knew that was going to happen wherever they went. They would judge her because of him. They would blame anything she said or did, only to blame it on him. Humans would cast a crown of thorns on her head, degrading her with their looks and causing pain with their words. People will question her mind and someday, one will try to take her from him.

Something that he would not tolerate. People would really meet an early death if one laid a hand on his canvas. He dared them to try and take this beautiful and curious creature from him, take his laughter away. It would look grim for anyone who tired.

 _Ah, she would look quiet lovely with a crown of thorns on her head…with a white rose tied around her neck~_

"Hehe, you did nothing wrong dearie~ Humans judge one another every day for the smallest reasons. You just stay the way you are~" He giggled behind his sleeve, using his nail to try to her frown into a smile. "Turn that frown into a smile~ There is much more your curiosity needs to indulge in." He sung.

His smile and laugh were both infections, and she knew he was right. She was with him, her curiosity was being filled, and her whole being felt exciting. Her frown formed into a smile, as she turned to look straight ahead in front of her. Eyes widen at what stood right before the two, her smile twitched slightly in excitement.

"Oh! What's that!?" She squealed, dragging him once again through the thongs of people to a shop that once again caught her attention.

"Hehe, lead the way~"

* * *

Black clouds sprawl across the sky, billowing in from the west. The once bright moon now covered, shrouding the city in complete and absolute darkness. The air grows heavy and humidity presses down, suffocating. The scent of rain is dark and heady. A stillness fall over the streets, and in the silence, comes a low crackle of thunder, rolling across rooftops to the pattering of tiny raindrops. For a moment, everything stops. Even the wind holds its breath. A steak of hot silver splits the sky, and the downpour begins.

Lying on the floor next to multiple wooden crates and metal cages was several human forms, all unmoving. Hidden in the dim light of candles that lit of the darkness, laid multiple rope, chains, and torture devises. A lone figure lurked closer to the bodies, feeling a thrill that enveloped him like someone who got to use their birthday presents long before it was their actual birthday.

The present? Three girls.

He laid his hand on one of girls dress clad hip, not fat but soft. A smile crept over his young features as his hand ran first down her thigh and then up to her chest. She was warm enough not to be dead, but so immobile the drugs had her, along the other two, out for the count. He felt the urge to see her face, touch her hair, but the black hood still over her head meant the games had not yet begun.

"Leon is such a stickler for the rules. No doubt he's off negotiating a ransom, bloke never gives up a capture." He huffed, eyes roaming over the woman lying in front of him. His smile turned threating as he glanced over at the other two women. It was obvious that coins were not what he wanted, but living his fantasies was his drug of choice.

He rose to his feet, he knew this was going to be fun. Next time he'd have to do the swiping himself, then they'd play by his rules. Sure, the game didn't last so long then, but the thrills were custom made by his own daydreams.

What else mattered?

"No happily ever after for you ladies."

* * *

"Dearie~ I'll go get the fire started, so that way you can warm up and then I'll make us some tea." Undertaker giggled, quickly ushering her into the shop, following right behind her. They had lost track of time; between her constant wanting to just look at things and stop at nearly every single store in the covered market. There were times that she felt slightly overwhelm by learning all types of new things and the amount of people that started to pack the market. On their way home, they ended up getting caught in the downpour of rain, but thankfully the parlor was only around the corner and didn't get that soaking wet.

Her favorite thing was getting to try different kinds of foods that she had never had before. Even though she really didn't feel like eating, she couldn't resist tasting everything. She found a love for the bitter taste of dark chocolate, but wasn't a huge fan of milk chocolate. She liked peaches and apples, but didn't like strawberries. Unless they were dark chocolate covered strawberries, then she would eat it.

There was one thing she absolutely did not like and never wanted to try ever again.

Caramel.

Didn't matter what it was; Caramel covered apples, caramel and chocolate candies, caramel covered pears, and just plain caramel. She did not like it one bit. It had a strange taste and texture, not to mention that it was to sticky and stuck to the top of gums for a good ten minutes. It also left a weird after taste in her mouth that she didn't like, and washing it down was a hassle and nothing tasted good with it.

Stepping into the back room, she found the fire going and the sound of things clinking in the kitchen.

"I hope he doesn't go breaking things again." Sapphira giggled, lowering herself down to the floor in front of the fire. Lying next to the fire was a blanket and the book she had been reading from time to time, sitting right on top of it. Wrapping the blanket around herself, she turned to the page that she had left off.

 _Madam la Comtesse de Lorsange was one of those priestesses of Venus whose fortune is the product of a pretty face and much misconduct, and whose tiles, pompous though they are, are not to be found but in the archives of Cythera, forged by the impertinence that seeks, and sustained by the fool's credulity that bestows, them; brunette, a fine figure, eyes of a singular expression, that modish unbelief which, contributing one further spice to the passions, causes those women in whom it is suspected to be sought after that much diligently; a trifle wicked, unfurnished with any principle, allowing evil to exist in nothing, lacking however that amount of depravation in the heart to have extinguished its sensibility; haughty, libertine; such was Madame de Lorsange._

 _Nevertheless, this woman had received the best education; daughter of a very rich Parisian banker, she had been brought up, together with a sister named Justine, by three years younger than she, in one of the capital's most celebrated abbeys where, until the ages of twelve and fifteen years, the one and the other of the two sisters had been denied no counsels, no masters, no books, and no polite talents._

 _At this period crucial to the virtue of the two maidens, they were in one day made bereft of everything; a frightful bankruptcy precipitated their father into circumstances so cruel that he perished of grief. One month later, his wife followed him into the grave. Two distant and heartless relatives deliberated what should be done with the young orphans; a hundred crowns apiece as their share of a legacy mostly swallowed up by creditors. No one caring to be burdened with them, the convent's door was opened, their dowry was put into their hands, and they left at liberty to become what they wished._

 _Madam de Lorsange, at the time called Juliette, whose mind and character were all intents and purposes as completely formed then as at thirty, the age she had attained at the opening of the tale we are to relate, seemed nothing but overjoyed to be put at large; she gave not a moment's thought to the cruel events which had broken her chains. As for Justine, aged as we have remarked, twelve, her was of a pensive and melancholy character, which made her far more keenly appreciate all the horrors of her situation._

 _Full of tenderness, endowed with a surprising sensibility instead of with her sister's art and finesse, she was ruled by an ingenuousness, a candor that were to cause her to tumble into not a few pitfalls. To so many qualities this girl joined a sweet countenance, absolutely unlike that with which Nature had embellishes Juliette; for all the artifice, wiles, coquetry one noticed in the features of the one, there were proportionate amounts of modesty, decency, and timidity to be admired in the other; a virginal air, large blue eyes very soulful and appealing, a dazzling fair skin, a supple and resilient body, a touching voice, teeth of ivory and the loveliest blond hair, there you have a sketch of this charming creature whose naïve graces and delicate traits are beyond our power to describe._

 _They were given twenty-four hours to leave the convent; into their hands, together with their five score crowns, was thrown the responsibility to provide for themselves as they saw fit._

 _Delighted to be her own mistress, Juliette spent a minute-_

"Dearie, tea is ready~"

Undertaker sang as he walked back into the room, carrying a beaker full of tea in each hand. He snickered at the sight lying in front of him; she was curled up inside the blanket, laying on her side, with the book she had her nose buried in lying in front of her. He could hear the light sounds of her breathing softly.

Engrossed, absorbed, almost in a trance. Transported to another reality. That book had a vice-like grip on her mind, it's twisted reality began to distort her own, challenging the once mundane facts of her existence, bringing her into a new turbulent realm where even her sense of self was up for grabs.

"Dearie?"

He peered over her still form, to find her asleep; she had fallen asleep with her hand propping her head up, in apparent she was exhausted. Soft smile stretched across his lips, a rare sight to see on him. He sat the beakers down on the table, closing the book, he too laid that on the table. He gently picked her up off the floor, feeling her stir slightly in his arms, trying to find a comfortable position in his arms, the side of her face snuggling into his chest.

His giggling kept to a whisper; his steps light on the old wooden floors. He didn't dare to wake his sleeping angel, as this was the one time that she looked peaceful and innocent. He'd hate to wake her up by changing her, but he knew if she didn't get out of that damp dress she could end up with a cold.

Or did angels get colds?

He found it tempting to leave her in the dress to see if she were to develop a cold. Thankfully the fire had dried it enough so it wouldn't completely soak the mattress, but just enough to make the sheets a little damped and cool.

Making his way into her room, he shifted to hold her with one arm as he pulled the covers down. Laying her softly on the bed, he pulled her flats off and sat them down on the floor at the foot of the bed. Slowly and gently, he moved her dress up to her thighs, unclasping her stockings nimbly and pulled them in a swift motion, but not before his nails gently scraping against her legs when he pulled her dress back down.

Shape intake could be heard coming from the sleeping angel, yet the only thing to escape past her lips was a soft moan. Undertaker had to do whatever he could not laugh at her response, but he couldn't help but snicker as he moved the covers over her. Moving the hair out of her face, he slid a finger down to her cheek, grinning slightly.

She looked beautiful and inviting under the bright flashes of light that stretched across the dark sky. Even in her sleep she was curious, it was obvious that there was something she wanted deep in her subconscious, something that would really make her heart beat in excitement, her mind would break from it, and her soul…. her soul would feel the ultimate bliss the world had to offer.

He moved to take her cheek into his hand, his thumbs brushing across her lips. He leaned down close to her, his eyes shining through his long bangs. She smelt like cinnamon and sugar, just like her hand did from earlier in the day when she baked cookies. His other hand gently took her hand and brought it to his lips, his lips moved against her knuckles as he spoke.

"My beautiful canvas, soon enough your mind will crave what lies deep inside of you and when that day comes, you will find your mind, heart, and soul on the verge of drowning to death in its lust. Until that day comes…" He leaned down and whispered something in her ear, the low rumbling sound of thunder drowned out what he was telling her.

He slowly moved from the bed and vanished out of her room without a single thought or action. He knew things were about get interesting, not just for her. He knew he was due a visit from his dear old friend in the coming days and that would itself would further plunge her in the darkness.

He was ready to see how much she could handle before she broke.


	6. Her Nightmare

**A/N: I just love thanking all of you for reading, reviewing, following, and favoriting. It really does make my day when I see the emails and surprise visits when I log onto fanfiction. Most chapters will be as long as the last one or maybe a tad bit longer, but I do apologize if the last chapter was a little dreadful in the beginning.**

 **I also want to apologize for this chapter taking as long as it did. It's been a rough month, my grandfather had a heart attack the day after my last chapter was posted (He's doing a lot better, nothing seems to stop that old man lol) then I got the flu a week afterwards, and then I fell and injured my back, so I had to lay on my stomach for nearly a week as I recovered. Needless to say, it's been one hell of a month. Thank you for being patience!**

 **Now, we have more characters being shown for now on.**

 **Ana: Yeah, he's sexy when he gets serious. My husband often questions my sanity when it comes to writing my stories and all the pictures I have up lol. Oh yeah, Vincent is stupidly pretty alright, I'm happy to write the chapter where she gets to interact with more people instead of the Undertaker.**

 **Guest: Trust me, the slow burn kills us all, but don't worry some steamy events will be in a chapter coming to you in the near future. Jumping straight into the bed would be fun to write, but would hinder the story.**

 **Biasoul: Thank you for the love! ^-^ It seriously made my day reading your review. Oh, it will become slowly more intimate, more possessive, more dangerous and dark. We all love our crazy, sexy reaper. He's just too damn perfect, but I wouldn't want him any other way. ^_~**

 **Hooray!**

 **Now, on to the story.**

* * *

 _He was her Dark Fairytale_

 _She was his Twisted Fantasy_

 _Together they made Magic_

* * *

 _The room was pitch black; she was as blind as if her eyes had been gouged. Her body washed cold. She brought her fingers to her eyes sockets; they were still there. She turned back to a flight of a stairs and tried to run up, but her foot fell through each one like it was a mere illusion._

 _So how had she got there then?_

 _Sapphira leant forwards to touch the stair, and felt a fabric fall down her arm, soft and velvety. Roughness and pointy object touched her forehead, one grope told her it was made of wood with thorns, a crown of thorns to be exact. She grabbed it and a mirror appeared in front of her, glowing bright. It was her, broken face and all, dressed like some picture book angel. The crown of thorns laid flat against her long her white hair, wearing nothing but a long simple white gown. One thing stood out amongst the crown and gown; it was a pair of massive snow white wings that adorn her back._

" _You brought this upon yourself!"_

" _You're tainted! Unclean! Not even God can save your soul."_

 _Voices echoed the pitch-black room, causing Sapphira to circle around to see where the source of the voices came from. Even with the mirror shining brightly, the room was to shrouded in darkness._

" _W-who's there?" Sapphira asked hesitantly._

" _You dare question our creator with your senseless ideas and impure thoughts!"_

" _She must be a follower of Satan!"_

" _Creator? Impure thoughts? Satan? I don't understand!_

" _She deserves to be a fallen angel."_

" _No! Cast her down straight to hell!"_

" _Please stop, I don't understand what you are saying!" Sapphira begged, holding her hands over her ears. Streams of tears ran down her cheeks, shaking her head in hoping the voices would just vanish. She turned back to the mirror, her big eyes turning wide at what she was witnessing. One by one, the feathers of her wings fell off until there was nothing left but a hollow, yet warm feeling. Without the sight of any knife in the mirror, the image began to bleed from her back, blood being soaked up on the sides of her dress and dripping down the bottom of her dress. She looked down as her feet stood in a pool of warm crimson blood. Sapphira raised her hand to the opening of the back of her dress, feeling the sticky warm fluid about her back._

 _She screamed; the image laughed._

 _In a blink of an eye, she was in her usual black dress once more, facing what looked to be a man with short raven hair, piercing fuchsia eyes, and sharp pointy teeth that looked ready to bite into her skin at any second. He looked everything like a man, but she knew he wasn't one. She just had this feeling. Ghoul, maybe? Like the ones, the Undertaker joked about living in the parlor._

" _Choose a card."_

 _Sapphira shook her head mutely. She had no idea who this man was or what he wanted. At that moment, all she wanted was the Undertaker to come save her and take her back to the parlor. Wait. No. She breathed. It wasn't real, how could it be._

" _Choose a card." She shook her head. "Why refuse me?"_

" _This is a dream! You're not real. Now, please, just leave me alone so I can wake up."_

 _The ghoul laughed. "Do you think everything you hear and see is just a dream? The reflection of you in the broken mirror? Those voices yelling? Why don't you think back to that day before you woke up in that reaper's little work room. What really happened?" His eyes narrowed as she stood in silence, her eyes casting down to the ground. He snickered as he walked around her, his hands laying on the upper part of her shoulders, his fingers drumming against her neck. "Blocked it out have we? I would too."_

 _Sapphira flinched under his touch, his hot breath against her ear. Hands removed from her shoulders, one arm wrapped around her waist, pressing himself against her as his other free hand grabbed her chin roughly, his lips pressing against her ear. "You came to a sticky end, my love. Then you came to me. I can't manipulate the living half as well as I can the dead. And what's what you are."_

" _P-please don't touch me like that…" Sapphira whimpered, her hands fighting to remove his arms off her, but his grip just got tighter. Air becoming steadily trapped in her throat, tears streamed down her face as he spoke once more._

" _You let that reaper touch you, lusting for him to touch you like this. I've known you for over a century, and you are revolted when I touch you the same. What a devious angel you are, your heart is truly tainted by such a mad man."_

 _Sapphira screwed her eyes shut, her body stiffing to his touch. She didn't want to be there anymore, all she wanted was to be back in her bed._

" _Let's stop all the pretense and get on with the game. So, my love, choose a card."_

" _No!"_

* * *

 _Rumble._

"No!"

An ominous boom startled Sapphira out of her abysmal nightmare. Her cheeks were wet and her body bathed in a cold sweat. The sheets were twisted around her limbs, probably because she was thrashing in her sleep. Her heart pounded against her chest. Sapphira trembled.

The room was entirely dark. No light anywhere. The remnants of her nightmare still clung to her mind, haunting her. Sapphira had no trouble imagining the ghoul lurking in the murky darkness of her room.

Another flash of lightening illuminated the room in blinding light. Sapphira let out a frightened cry and buried her face into the pillow. Even her breaths trembled. She swallowed and once again turned to see the endless darkness of her room. She couldn't see anything.

She couldn't breathe, it felt as if someone was choking her. Her heart was now racing and all she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and wait for someone to save her. A choked cry for help forced itself up her throat, and she felt a drop run down her cheek.

 _Creak._

Her watery eyes enlarged and the hairs on the nape of her neck bristled. A gaggle of goose pimples laminated the exposed areas of her frigid, naked skin. Slow and deliberate, the door handle turned. She tried to scream, but inside of her mouth lacked any moisture and a croak was all that issued from her gape. Finally, the door creaked open and…

"Dearie?"

His voice. His slight raspy voice, the one she had first heard laugh when she had awoken in the parlor. The room was so dark she could barely see him, if it wasn't for the flashes of lightening, she wouldn't have been able to see him at all. He stood in the doorway wearing nothing but a high neck collar white button down shirt tucked into his black pants and black socks, his boots, over coat, gray sash, and iconic hat were missing from his person.

That is what she needed at that moment.

Within a blink of an eye and the next lighting strike that had illuminated the room, she had managed to untangle herself from her sheets and pounced on him from the bed, her arms wrapping around his waist, her face buried into his chest.

Immediately his arms are around her and her legs crumble, knocking him to the ground and her falling nearly on top of him. She hid her tears beneath the blanket of her hair. She wanted to speak, but she still felt as if someone was choking her. His hand reaches through the space between her arms, his fingers gently touching her chin, making her look up at him.

"Now now, what has you so worked up dearie? Bad dreams, hmmm?"

"I-I don't know…i-if- "She sobbed, but was stopped when he shook his head.

"Breathe, dearie~" He watched as she took short, deep breaths. His hand rubbed her back in circles, nodding his head with a grin. "Good girl~ Now, tell me what has you in tears."

"If it's bad dreams or a memory…"

Tilting his head to the side, he saw her eyes were swollen and red. Her cheeks were blemished from being upset. He knew something happened, but he was curious to know if she did have a flash back of her memories or not. He was soon about to get ready for bed, but that can wait. This was much more interesting. "Care to tell me~"

Sapphira had a death grip on his white shirt, explaining her entire nightmare to him. Everything from the dark room, to finding herself bleeding in front of the mirror, to appearing in a room with the ghoul who spoke to her. Her voice strangled as she explained what he had said to her, her grip tightened on his white shirt to the point Undertaker had thought she would rip it off him, and her eyes widen with fear and worry, tears streamed down her face. His eyes were lit up in interested and amusement, as he watched her reaction as she told him her nightmare.

His lips twitched into a grin; she had perfectly described how her dress and wings looked when he found her. The crown of thorns? That was placed on her head by the angels…to mock her and cause her pain. It's possible they did it to make fun of her falling from god's favor. His hand moved up to her face, his thumb smeared the steam of tears across her face.

The man she described, the man she had called a ghoul, was what caught his attention. He had made jokes to her and guest in the past about ghouls living in the parlor, but not once did he ever described what they remotely looked like. She said he looked to be a man, but she got this…strange feeling that he was not a man, but something else.

Raven black hair, fuchsia eyes, and sharp pointy teeth. That was definitely no ghoul, not by any means to the Undertaker. That was something more foul…more evil, and to mingle with angels, he knew what she described was a possible form between it's true form and one of its many disguises.

Disguise as an angel?

That would tempt any angel into lust.

Could a demon behind her fall?

So many questions, so little answers.

"Can…I ask you something?"

"Hehe, anything dearie~"

"Are you a reaper?"

Grin turned into a tight lip, his grip became tighter on her, and the hallway they sat in had developed into a tight tension. The air alone became so thick that she found herself not being able to breath, it also became thick enough that it felt like it weighted her down to the ground.

"Undertaker is-"She was cut off by his voice.

"Who told you that?"

His tone was serious and threating, his voice laced with dominance. In a matter of seconds, their positions were reverse; Sapphira had fallen back on her back, being only supported by her elbows. Undertaker had her pinned to the floor, his face close to hers, his hands on of hers, keeping her to the ground.

A visible lump ran down her throat, her fingers scrapping against the wooden floor, as his fingers scrapped against her skin. Her body shook at what looked to be fear, but that was the furthest thing she was feeling.

 _Ecstatic._

 _Thrilled._

 _Fascinated._

 _Enthusiastic._

It was the same type of dominance he had shown her earlier that day, and she had loved it. This time…this was different.

She _lusted_ for this.

 _I always enjoy his usual self; his infectious laugh and smile, his sweep gestures as he pulls me into, what he calls a "hug" and when he pulls me into a dance. Yet, when I see this…_

Her eyes waivered as she stared up at him, she couldn't see his eyes, but she could feel them piercing her through his long bangs. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt the pressure of his hands on her, his nails slowly digging into her skin.

 _I can't help but feel this strange excitement that makes my body shiver in this overwhelming but strange sensation. There's a word for what I feel, but I don't know…I must know what this feeling is. I lust to know what this feeling that brings my entire being to my knees…I just have-_

"Sapphira…" His voice gave a warning when he said her name. He hardly ever called her by her name, and when he did, it usually meant business.

Again, her entire body shivered in anticipation, her lips finding a way to move themselves as she spoke in awe. "The ghoul…he called you that. He seemed rather angry that I was revolted by the way he touched me, yet when you do it, I lust for it."

"Oh…is that so" He pressed himself closer, his eyes watched her entering being. He could sense how she was feeling, he knew her body was anticipating his touch, but he wasn't about to give that up to her. Tight lip formed into a menacing smile, his words coming out twisted and mockingly. "Tell me, dearie~ Are you afraid of me?"

Sapphira tilted her head to the side, flashes of lighting illuminating her questionable expression.

"Filled with fear or apprehension. Filled with concern or regret over an unwanted situation."

 _So, that's what afraid means. It's another word for fear, something that nightmare made me feel like._

Sapphira shook her head, staring up at him. "I'm not afraid of you, Undertaker. Never have been and never will be."

Before he could react, Sapphira yanked her hands out of his hold and tackled hugged him, landing him on his back. Burring her face into his chest, shaking her head as she spoke. "I know a lot of people fear you, people ask me questions all the time. "Why do you stay with such a creepy old man? Don't you fear his eccentric and bazar personality? He may kill you and make you his doll? I hear so many things, but there's one thing I'm certain of. I'm not scared of you, I know who you really are and I know you would never hurt me on purpose. What I fear, is that ghoul and that everything was real. I fear him coming here and taking me away. Taking me away from you."

For a split second, Undertaker was caught off guard by her movement, yet he let out a small cackle as he patted her head. She was such a frightful angel. "Now dearie~ It was all a nightmare, none of that was real. You are here with me, and no one is going to take you from here."

He felt her nodded her head, a mutter making its way from his chest. "You promise?"

Giggling at her reaction, he patted her head once more. "Hehe, I promise dearie~"

"So…what's a reaper exactly?"

Undertaker chuckled, shaking his head. "You're determined to know what that is, aren't you dearie~" Feeling the nod of her head, his body shook in laughter. "Hehehehe, reaper is another word for someone who works with the dead. That's why that word was in your nightmare, you read that in the book about what I do for a living, so it was nothing more than your mind playing tricks."

"Mind playing tricks?"

"Gu fuuuu, I did drown you in a lot curiosity today. Which could explain why you had the nightmare, as you were so exhausted that you fell asleep reading in front of the fire. Why, you didn't even get to try my favorite tea you kept whining on about that you wanted to try, the whole way home." He whined, running a hand through her silky hair, listening to the rumbles of thunder, watching the flashes of lighting scatter the parlor, and feeling her heart beating against his chest.

…

…

…

"Dearie?"

Peaking down at the fallen angel in his arms, he saw that she had fallen asleep sometime after she asked her last question. She truly was exhausted and after her adrenaline rush from her nightmare stopped, she had fallen back to sleep with such ease.

Undertaker on the other hand, could not help but wonder about her nightmare. Was it truly a nightmare or a memory? It sounded like a memory, as there were some parts that was actually true: such as her attire and the voices shouting crude things to her. Yet, the sight of the demon could have just been a nightmare, but there was one thing that proved certain not be the case.

He was a called a reaper. The demon had singled him out and called him that in front of her. Perhaps due to being frightened, she did not inquire what he had meant, but nonetheless that was a good thing. If she had not been frightened, her curiosity surely would have taken over her and she would be learning information could prove to be…deadly. Was it because her curiosity was at full rain now? He had not counted on a demon being the reason she fall and he really had not counted on his own skeletons in the closet being exposed…so soon.

Running a hand through her hair, he watched as she slept with a smile, as if nothing happened. Doing everything he could not wake her, he slowly pushed himself up from the ground with one arm as he kept his other hand on the side of her head, pressing her right cheek into his chest. Once he sit up, he leaned her into left arm, as he used his right arm to wrap underneath her legs. Lifting her slowly and carefully, he carried her back into the room.

Once booming thunder slowly developed into small rumbles, bright flashes of lighting turned into flashes of light here and there. Rain still poured down the roof, but it made for good sleeping weather. Laying her back in her bed, he covered her back up and slowly left her room, not without taking one last look before he vanished into the dark hallway.

"Bit of advice dearie~ Do not trust anyone, being too trustful…will be your downfall."

* * *

Several days had passed since the nightmare incident with Sapphira. Each day Undertaker waited to see if she would question him any further on the dream or tell him that she had another nightmare. He had figured she would have had another one, especially if it involved a demon, or ask him why he was referred to as a reaper or what the wings meant.

However…the questions never came.

Nor did she have another nightmare.

Not many things baffle the mortician, but this was truly one of them. Sapphira almost acted like nothing had happened that night. Perhaps it really was a nightmare. Still he could not shake the feeling that something ominous was about to happen, and he needed to be prepare for it. Perhaps it was about due time that he paid a visit to a few acquaintances; maybe they can unearth some information.

Oh. Speaking of information.

"Hmmm….dearie~"

Sapphira had been sweeping up near the front door when her attention turned to the mortician. Bright smile crept along her angelic face as she turned to face him. "Yes, Undertaker?"

"If anyone peculiar comes to the parlor looking for me, do let me know. I have a guest to attend too, hehehehehe~" He giggled, disappearing behind the dark curtain.

"Of course." She nodded, finishing sweeping around the front door. Emptying the dirt that had collected over the course of the last day and half was amazing. It was all thanks to the guest that had been brought yesterday evening.

The man had been originally was working on his farm when the accident had happened. He had just moved a ton of dirt out behind his barn to use for his garden that he was expanding about a little over an acre. His son who had brought him in said that he must've climbed up at the top of the barn, looking for one of his tools that he was going to need, but lost his step and fell out of the latch he had opened so there would be a breeze in the barn. Falling out of the barn and into the pile of dirt would have potentially saved him, minus being sore for a few weeks.

Unfortunately, that was not the case.

When he had lost his step, he had hit his head on the latch when stumbled, knocking him unconscious. The blow to the head was not the injury that killed him. Falling face first into the dirt and being unconscious when it happened, he ended up breathing in dirt into his lungs. Normally, a little bit of dirt would not cause that many issues, just a cough and minor lung irritation. Breathing in dirt for two hours straight until someone finds you, is another story. He had breathed in so much dirt, that when his son had found him, his entire mouth was just full of dirt.

By the time any help arrived, the farmer had passed away. His son knew it would be pointless to take him to the hospital, so instead he brought him to the parlor.

The Undertaker told him that the head injury probably was not what killed him, but said he would look into it anyway just to make sure.

The amount of dirt that was brought in from this guest not normal, as Sapphira believed she had enough dirt to make herself a small garden out back of the parlor.

"It feels a little stuffy in here…I probably should prop the door open and let some air in." Dumping the dirt into the trash, she grabbed her broom and headed for the front door. Using the tip of her toes, she held the bell in her hand as she opened the door, so it the bell wouldn't chine and disrupt him from his work. Pushing the door fully open, she started to sweep up around outside of the shop.

"Once I sweep out here and get clean everything, the parlor shouldn't be so stuffy anymore."

Sapphira hummed gently, focusing on the task that was right before her. Her black dress swayed as she moved her broom side to side, watching as the wind blew the pile of dirt she had collected down the street.

Taking the broom, she started to swipe at the cobwebs that hung around the corners of the building and up on the sign, taking careful precautions to not knock the sign easily down from its spot. Ever since she started cleaning here, it had become more and more easy to keep the entire parlor cleaned. Not as much to sweep up and not as many cobwebs hanging in the way as there first was when she first started her work.

Once all the cobwebs were knocked down, she disappeared back into the parlor only to come back out with a small bucket of water and rag. Thankfully there were only two coffins propped up outside, both covered in dirt and mud.

Dipping the rag into the bucket several times, she gently twisted the rag several times to ring out the excess soapy water.

At first glance, it looked to be a hard job, as the coffins that stood outside were huge. Sapphira learned the first time she started to wash them, that they were easy to take care of. It didn't take long to do the whole job, as they could easy dry out in the sun once she ran a dry cloth over them so the wood wouldn't rotten.

The most difficult part of cleaning was reaching the very top and back that was propped up against the wall. Stepping on tippy toes, she slung the rag over the top of the coffin, dragging it down and repeating the process two more times.

Next, she took the dry rag and spread it over, letting it soak up the water as it started to dry.

Repeating the process again with the other coffin, she decided to wait until the very end to dry the other coffin.

Laying the wet rag over the side of the bucket, she removed the dry cloth that she had used to dry the other coffin and started to dry the other one. Since this one was more eye-level with her, she reaching the top and he part of that laid up against the wall was of no issue for her.

"Well, that's done and out of the way." She rubbed the back of her hand across her forehead, folding her arms across her chest, her eyes glanced up at the clear blue eye. Her lips twitched into a smile. "My, what a beautiful day it is."

"Why yes, it's an exceptionally beautiful day we have today." A silvery voice called out from directly behind her.

"Ah!" Sapphira jumped at the sudden voice, turning around to face the person who had spoken to her. She had unfolded her arms, and clenched the dry rag to her chest, her eyes widen at the sudden shock and surprised of someone standing behind her.

The silvery voice belonged to a very handsome, well dressed young man. His short bluish-black hair shined in the sun, his brown eyes looked and the beauty mark under his left eye scrunched up as a smile was plastered across his face. His right hand laid across his chest, giving her a slight bow as he spoke with a small chuckle. "My apologies, I didn't mean to scare you. It's hard to believe the rumors that I've heard are true."

"Rumors?"

"Why yes, I've heard the Undertaker had been keeping a beautiful young maiden in his parlor, I just had no idea you were as beautiful as an angel." He stated, his smile not once leaving his face as he gently took one of her hands that was held against her chest, bringing it up to his lips, kissing the top of her hand. "I'm Lord Vincent Phantomhive, what might your name be?"

Redness spread across her face, as she clutched the rag with her remaining hand tighter against her chest. This was something new, and she was curious to know what exactly was he doing. Her voice stammering slightly, inclining her head into a bow. "It's a pleasure to meet you Lord Phantomhive, I'm Sapphira."

"Please, call me Vincent, and the pleasure is all mine. Pray tell me, is the Undertaker in now?"

"Oh, do you know the Undertaker?"

"Why yes, you could say he's…a family friend."

Tilting her head to the side, her sapphire eyes studied him as her brain racked around in her head. She has never heard of his name before nor as she seen him before in her time there. Perhaps, this is the very first time he has stopped by in the last several months of her arrival. He didn't seem threating, as he was rather nice and very pleasant to her. Yet, something was off about the devilish handsome man that stood in front of her. Like he was…shrouded in a cloak of mysteries.

Just like the Undertaker.

Oh!

Sapphira just remembered that the Undertaker had told her if anyone in peculiar was to come visit to let him…so this probably fell under that category. Nodding her head, she made her way into the parlor as she glanced over her shoulder with a charming smile. "Yes, let me go-"

"Hehehehe, no need dearie, I had a hunch he was coming~"

Jumping for the second time in a matter of minutes, she turned around to find the Undertaker sitting at his desk, his hands collapsed together in front of his face, a grin that spread from ear to ear. She had no idea how long he had been sitting there, as he was not there fifteen minutes before when she had left out the door to clean outside. Resting a hand against her chest, she sighed a little.

"It's been a while, Undertaker." Vincent chuckled.

"Gu Fu, why yes it has Earl~ I do believe it was right before the holidays since you last stopped by." Undertaker hummed, laying a finger on his chin as he thought about the last time.

"It would've been sooner if you had come to the Christmas party I had invited you too."

"Oh Earl, you know I'm very unwelcome in many places~ Though it would've been fun to scare people." He giggled.

Vincent nodded his head, laying a hand on Sapphira shoulder as he bent down to her height. "So, tell me then old friend, how long have you been hiding this beauty in your shop?"

With attention now all on her, Sapphira's cheeks turned slightly red as her eyes moved down to stare at her feet. She didn't know what to say to his questions, as she didn't want to embarrass the Undertaker. Figuring it would be best to let him answer that questions, she just let kept her eyes casted down to the ground.

"Hee hee, why yes, that's my lovely assistant~ She's been helping out a little over a month now."

Removing his hand from her shoulder, he placed it on his chin as a smile broke across his face. "I see, it's just unusual for you to keep living occupants. Mainly one that's like an angel such as Sapphira here."

"Hehe, if only you knew earl~" Undertaker giggled as his joke, his head inclined as a wicked smile spread across his lips. "Now, I pray that you didn't come to visit me just out of coincidence. How can I help the Earl today?"

His eyes narrowed as he vanished from the fallen angel's side and over to a shelf fool of books, his fingers nimbly ran down the side of the books. Stopping dead in his tracks, his eyes first glance back at the white-haired woman and over to the gray headed man, a grin slipped across his lips. "I'm in need of some…information."

In that very second, Undertaker's eyes lit up in a neon green threw his bangs as she rushed over to Vincent, drool dripping down the corners of his lips. "You know the requirement, don't you Earl?"

Sapphira tilted her head to the side in confusion at the sudden action the Undertaker had acted in. He seemed…different.

He seemed to be like her when she was curious about something.

He was _begging._

Which meant only trouble for the person on the other end.

"Uh oh…" Sapphira murmured.

"Haa haa, please Earl! Give it to me! Give it to me and I shall tell you everything you want to here!" Undertaker begged as he hugged himself and moved in circles, drool just dripping down the corner of his mouth.

"Undertaker…?"

"Please, show me a first-rate laugh! One joke and all the information is yours!"

"Information?" She inquired.

"Dearie~"

Sapphira squeaked at the sudden appearance of the Undertaker standing right in front of her, grinning like an absolute mad man. Taking her hand into his, he laid a small black bag in her palm and closed her hand, using his other hand to pat her. "We're out of cinnamon and sugar to make cookies. Do you mind being an angel and getting some?"

Forgetting everything that has happened in the last two minutes, her eyes lit up like a child as she stood on her tippy toes in excitement. "You mean, I get to go out by myself and get some?" That was a first, even though she has only been out for the first time in the past week three times, he had gone with her each time. Once to the indoor mall and the other two times to a small market that was around the corner from the parlor.

"Hehe yes, just go to the small store inside I first took you too and get some~"

"Absolutely!"

Spinning her around, he walked her to the front door that was still propped open. He leaned down to the side of her head, his breath hot against her ear as he spoke. "Hehe, don't stay out to long dearie~ It's dangerous to be out after dark, things lurking in the shadows would love to eat a beauty like you up~"

Cold chill running down her spine at his words, she couldn't help but nod her head like a mindless doll. Gently being pushed down the door and hearing the door slamming right behind her, she couldn't help but turn around and stare at the door blankly. Voices could be heard from behind the door, but only muffles could be made out.

Nodding her head in determination, she couldn't help but giggle at the curiosity of being out on her own. There were so many things that she wanted to do and explore, but she needed to wait on the Undertaker or she would be lost for sure. Yet…there was a certain excitement that lingered in her that wanted to do it on her own and lose her way. Making her way down the street toward where the indoor mall sat, she could hear a familiar sound coming from behind her.

"Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!"

 _Crash!_

Hearing the crazy mortician laughing to the point of death, following by the sound of the large sign falling to the ground. Well, it was very apparent whatever the man wanted from the Undertaker was sure to get it now.

"Hehe, I'll never get tired of hearing that laugh."

* * *

The torturer ran his hands over the cold metal tools and let a giggle slip, soon followed by a snort. He breathed in deeply as he watched his present laid flat out on a table, arms and ankles both tied down by thick leather straps. Her dress slashed in several different places, her rich black hair sprawled out underneath her head. Her eyes fluttering open as the drugs she had been given to knock her out for the count had started to finally wear off.

"Glad to see you awake, my gorgeous present."

Words that had no meaning or purpose slipped past her lips, it was apparent that she was still trying to make sense of what was going on around her. As he picked up the scalpel, his eyes popped a little wider and his tongue shot out to lick his thin lips.

With one flick, he turned the switch for the music to play, filling the room with loud orchestral music, always live and rare recordings.

"You know, if Leon knew what I was doing right now he would probably have my head. Of course, that bloke is busy taking care of some loose ends. You know, it's very fortunate that you got me." He spun around to look at the woman on the table, tilting his head to the side. "William is currently delivering the product, that way you could have some company. I don't like my presents to be lonely, but I think you and I can have some fun while we wait."

Turning to the young lady, he ran his fingers over the arms that he had dreamt about for the last nine hours and he began to draw the blade over the top. He liked the victim to watch their blood flow before the real pain began and their screams sang to the music, the finest and most raw instrument he'd ever heard.

Oh, he just shivered in delight at the sound of his present screaming. Her eyes full fear and terror, as they filled to the brim with tears.

He watched at the blood flow from down her arm, onto the table, dripping onto the floor. Drop, drop, drop…her blood shedding like her tears.

Licking his lips once more, he circled around the table as he tapped the bloodied blade against his chin.

"Where, oh where shall I mark you next. Maybe your thigh?" Dragging the blade down her leg, he watched in glee as the blood trickled down her leg, staining her once beautiful blue dress.

"Maybe your cheek."

Moving his blade to her cheek, he slowly dragged the blade across her cheek. Blood and tears mixed together, making it seem as she was bleeding out of her eye.

"Oh! I know, maybe I'll cut your neck."

Once the blade crossed over her neck, blood sprayed everywhere. Coating him in the pure rich crimson liquid he loved so much. Her screams slowly turned into a gargle, as the wound on her neck started to now squirt out. He instantly frowned, watching in amusement and frustration as her eyes fluttering as they did when she was first knocked out and had woken up. The beautiful white color of her skin slowly turned pale, as her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

With just one cut of her throat, she had died in a matter of minutes.

"How annoying…she didn't last long. This is no good, I was going to give her some friends." Shrugging his shoulders, he laid his scalpel on his trey, taking the towel that laid next to it to wipe some of the blood off his face. Casting his eyes back at his former present, his frown slowly turned upward.

"Guess I'll just get William to get me a few presents who are a fine quality."

* * *

"I see you don't the Undertaker traveling with you today."

Sapphira hadn't even taken five steps into the store when she heard the male voice call out to her. Swirling around in the spot she was standing in, she could see it was the middle-aged shop keeper who had spoken to her. Currently unboxing some product, Sapphira quietly walked over to his direction, rubbing the back of her hand with a free hand.

"Oh, yes, he had…some business to take care of and sent me here."

"Let me guess, you need sugar and cinnamon, correct?

Eyes widening in amazement as she nodded her head as she spoke. "Yes sir, how did you know?"

Chuckling slightly to her question, he sat the box that he had been working on to the side and walked a little way down the aisle, searching for something. "Undertaker is a very odd fellow and doesn't venture out much, but when he does, he always comes here for his sugar and cinnamon. Always buys enough to last two weeks or so. The other day was the first time I saw him out two times in a week, much less with a pretty maiden as such as yourself."

Sapphira blushed slightly, placing a hand on her cheek. Compliments from strangers was still a weird concept for her, but she knew to always be polite when she was given one, or so the Undertaker had told her to do. "T-Thank you, I'm just surprised you actually remember me."

"It's hard to forget someone who doesn't like caramel."

"My apologies if I offended you, it's just I don't like how it sticks to my gums. Plus, the way it-"

She was cut off by the sound of him laughing, which confused her a little. She didn't say anything funny…so why was he laughing? Tilting her head to the side, she raised a finger to inquire about why he was laughing, but was stopped when he pulled two bags off the shelf.

"It was a joke, sweetie. You didn't offend me, it's just weird and unusual for someone not to like caramel. Then again, to be in the company of the Undertaker, you have to be a little weird." He explained as he walked to the counter with what she had come to search for. Setting them down, he totaled up the cost. "That will be 11 pence, sweetie."

Opening the black bag she had in her hand, she slowly counted out the coins one by one. This was another thing she was glad that he had taught her, since she did run the front counter at the parlor. If she couldn't count change, what kind of assistant would she be?

Sapphira bowed her head in appreciation as he bagged the sugar and cinnamon up for her to carry back home. Tucking the black bag into the front pocket of her dress, she kindly took the brown bag from the counter, only to be stopped by him once more.

"Before I forget, Ms. I don't like caramel, my wife made these delicious milk chocolate balls that would like. So, here's a few for the rode." Removing the bag from underneath the counter, he slipped it down into the bag with a smile.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Cunningham! Please, do tell your wife I said thank you as well. I'm sure I'll enjoy them." Sapphira gave a big toothy grin, as she took the bag off the counter and headed out the door, giving him a small wave before she stepped out.

Humming quietly as she walked past the shop, her eyes roamed all around the mall. Kids were running through, laughing and shouting as they played with one another. Their mothers slowly walk behind them, a calming smile spread across her lips, instructing them to slow down and not to run while they were inside.

Her eyes shifted over to the group of women who walked with such grace and dignity. They gossiped about the latest fashion and hot topics involving other people of their nobility. As they walk passed a small tea shop, a small old couple sat at a small table, watching as they passed. Holding hands and sipping tea, they smiled as they talked about all the good and bad things that has happened in their life.

Sapphira listened to all as she passed, her mind rattling with curiosity.

What was love? What was friends? What was being a mother like? Why did people live the way they did? What caused them to act the way they do? Why do children laughing make her…happy?

Why did the old couple make her feel…sad?

Why was she feeling feelings that are mixing and intertwining with one another?

This was seriously a question for the Undertaker.

Or…did she need someone else to ask questions and fill her curiosity?

Holding a finger to her lip, she tilted her head to the side as she neared the exit of the mall. Who else did she know who could help her?

"All I know is the Undertaker...and I know he said he would help me, even though he's done enough already. Yet, I get this feeling that there is more out there. That I could learn more from someone else…but would I be betraying him if I did that?"

"Help! Please stop that thief!"

Sapphira snapped her neck toward the direction that she heard yelling from. A woman was screaming frantically as she pointed toward the direction that the fallen angel was currently standing in. Turning her head from side to side, she didn't know who she was pointing at, as she was really the one around.

That's when it happened.

Her entire body shivered from head to toe, her body reacting to the sudden sensation. It was as if something inside of her was telling her something was wrong, and she turned in the direction that the feeling was coming from. Of course, she didn't have time to react to what was about to happen.

A man was fleeing toward her direction, while a bag in one hand and a canister in the other hand. Seeing that she was standing in his direct path, he pushed her with all his force out of the way.

 _Thud._

The canister that was in his hands fell, causing him to gasp, but he knew if were to stop that he would be caught.

"Ah!" Sapphira yelped, losing her footing from being shoved out of the way, clinging the brown bag to her chest as she prepared to hit the floor. Squeezing her eyes shut, she felt herself falling backwards, she was nearly to the ground when a pair of arms wrapped around her, halting her sudden fall.

Eyes opening to the sound of a slight grunt, she looked up to see a rather handsome face that looked rather angry. His dark eyes stared down at her big bright sapphire eyes, blinking in confusion. His short black hair was parted to the right, wearing dark green uniform, but she had no clue what kind it really was. He hastily brought her back up to her feet, keeping one arm around her so she could regain her balance.

"You really should pay more attention to your surroundings, Snow White."


	7. His Experiment

**A/N: I am terribly sorry that it has taken me six months to get this chapter posted! Due to medication issues for a heart condition, I have found myself falling asleep in the evenings soon after I put my daughter down for bed, as by the time 8-9pm comes, I'm simply too exhausted to even write. Plus, my husband and I just bought a house last month, so every free time I get goes to fixing it up and getting stuff slowly moved in. Slowly, my body is getting used to it, so now I am being able to stay awake as much. I'll try to get back to posting two chapters a month to month and a half, depending on the workload and how exhausted I am. It also does not help that work has been wanting overtime since people have been quitting, so there is that.**

 **Seriously, thank you so much for reading, reviewing, following, and favorite. All of you seriously makes my day! ^-^ All of you have been my motivation to not lose complete focus and to get back into writing every night again.**

 **Now, on with the story!**

* * *

 _Alone_

 _He will wait_

 _Even if forever_

 _It does take_

 _In his grasp_

 _A rose he does hold_

 _It is his heart_

 _She has controlled_

 _In the darkness_

 _He does remain_

 _Nothing to lose_

 _So much to gain_

 _Yet still_

 _He does try_

 _For love_

 _Does not die._

* * *

"Snow White?"

Sapphira blinked at the man who stood before, her eyes studying his angry expression, her brain scattering at why he could call her such a name. Gripping the bag tight against her chest, she felt his arm slipped out from around her as he raised his other fist into the air, waving it in rage as he yelled in the direction the thief had ran from after knocking her down.

"Hey! Get back here you bastard!"

People slowly gathered around the young woman, whispering to one another about mindless things. They watched as he elegantly stepped around her and started in the direction that the man was running in. Another young man stepped up toward Sapphira, his voice pressed with concern as he spoke.

"Ma'am, are you alright?"

Her head nodded absently, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm alright."

An officer approached her, as one stood back and spoke with the other woman who had worked in the shop that had been robbed. "Ma'am, did you happen to get a look at the man who pushed you?"

"No, it happened all too fast to really remember what the man looked like."

"What about what he was carrying?"

Pressing a finger to her lip, her mind reeling back over like a record about the events that had transpired. When he was running toward her, she could not remember anything about the man. What color hair or eyes he had, his height, or what he was wearing, she could not remember a single thing about him. The only thing she could remember was his bag that he had in his hand. "He carried a black bag in his hand and…" Sapphira's eyes trailed to the ground, as a single pink and white can laid right at her feet. "That can…he dropped it the moment he pushed me."

The officer bent down to pick the can up, inspecting it with a suspicious look. "I see…well, thank you for your help, ma'am."

"Oh, you're most welcome." She bowed her head and watched as he, and like everyone else who was around her, walk away. Shrugging her shoulders, she continued on her way to the exit, knowing she has probably kept the Undertaker waiting on her. She was not entirely sure how long she had been gone for, but she knew it was at least two hours or so.

Sapphira wasn't worried about the length of time she was gone, she focused on the can that the officer had picked up. There was something about the can that seemed…awfully familiar.

 _I felt like I've seen that can somewhere before, but where? My mind has been filled with different ideas and new things to explore, that trying to remember where I've seen that before is like a ghost. Pink and white…those colors looked so familiar, but just where have I seen them before? Whatever it was...it must have been important for someone to steal it. Undertaker has told me stories of how he has seen graves all dig up and items missing from the headstones. That people often stole items for great value or out of spite…but for some strange reason, this just feels different to me._

Sapphira puffed her cheeks out in annoyance as she tightened the bag against her chest. Eyes focused on the ground, her ears were picking up all kinds of sounds, but her brain was not registering what they were. She raddled her brain for the piece of information that she was looking for, but everything seemed so hazy to her. Almost as her brain had wanted her to forget about it and move on.

Exiting the store, she noticed that there was plenty of light still out and that she had enough time to make it back to the parlor before it got to dark out. There were a few officers lingering out by the street, talking amongst themselves as they eyed anyone who walked by with great suspicions. It was apparent that they were still looking for the man who had stolen something earlier, but she guessed that he must've got away after he had bumped into her.

Turning the corner, Sapphira unhinged an arm from the bag, raising a finger to lip as she strolled down the cobblestone. Even though her mind had solely focused on the canister that the thief had dropped, the excitement that made her heart race and the lust for curiosity that lurked in her soul had found a fascination in the man who had caught her from falling. Her eyes thinned as she could recall everything she saw about the man. Odd as it was, she was unable to remember almost nothing of the man who had bumped into her, yet she could remember the other man.

There was a darkness that ran wild in the back of her mind, it was consuming her mind, heart, and soul. Feeling the heat starting to climb the back of her neck, spreading to her cheeks as she thought about him. There was a small part in the back of her mind that screamed danger, he was surrounded in an air of mystery. The same type of air that surrounded the Undertaker and Vincent, but for some reason, she was drawn to the mystery. She was drawn to the darkness that surrounded them and was curious to what made them tick. So many things drove her curiosity wild, but it seemed like the forbidden knowledge they possessed made it more…enticing.

Her thoughts returned to Vincent, the man who had appeared at the parlor earlier in the day. Something seemed…odd about the whole situation.

 _Undertaker sent me out as fast as he could after he inquired about the payment. Was this one of the times that he told me it was always best if I left to go upstairs in the evening when he would get the unusual guest? I have so many questions and he did promise to fulfil my curiosity…maybe he can give me the answers I want._

Shaking her head, she tightened her grip around the bag in her arms. "I shouldn't have much further to go to get back to the parlor. Just cross this road, turn right and cross two blocks until I see the floral shop, then I'll be back there." She murmured.

Lost in the darkness of her mind and crossing a road is often a sign of a dangerous notion. Body raging with unfamiliar sensations that have not been explained, the last thing she was focused on was her immediate surroundings. Biting the bottom of her lip, she took a couple of a steps into the street, but immediately frowned when she felt a shiver ran through her entire being just as before, her head snapped up to the first sound that she had heard.

There was an odd noise, like the sound of a wobbly wheel. A banging noise followed. Turning from around the corner, a carriage had sit of the side of another carriage causing one of the wheels to become loss and hitting the side of the carriage. All the wheel needed was another jolt of some kind and it would eventually snap in half. What's even worst, the horses was out of control due to being scared from hitting the side and heading straight in her direction.

She also heard soft gasps and cries of people close by and across the street, but that wasn't what grabbed her attention. The sound of someone yelling directly at her, all she could she make out was that it belonged to man, but she couldn't make out the words. His yell was like a booming bark, it alone made her jump at the sound of it.

Adverting her eyes from the carriage that was before her to the source of the voice she heard, but it all became a blur. A hand swiftly grabbed her wrist, yanking her away from the street, watching at the carriage nearly missed her as a sigh could be heard coming directly in behind her.

Wide sapphire eyes blinked as she moved them from the runaway carriage to the person who had saved her from being hit, only to find the hand belonged to the very same man who had saved her the first time around.

"You really don't pay attention to your surroundings, do you Snow White?"

Cheeks burned red in embarrassment; her eyes adverted away from his as she spoke. "I'm terribly sorry; my mind was elsewhere as I was walking."

"Tch, this is the second time I've had to catch you today, you could've died just now." He stated with a cold tone, his grip on her wrist tightening ever so slightly. His face looked just as angry as it did when he first saved her; dark eyes burning like the pit of hell was raging.

Sapphira could feel his words burn against her skin, as she squeaked slightly at the tone of his voice. Her cheeks flared even more as she slowly inclined her head, her eyes wavered as she spoke in a hushed tone. "I-I'm terribly sorry, sir. It was not my intention to make you angry."

Immediately feeling his hand release her wrist, watching out from under her bangs as he crossed both his arms across his chest, his head turning to the side as if he was trying to hide the redness in his cheeks. He huffed for a second, his tone changing from a cold one to one of someone being flustered.

"Who said I was angry?"

"The look on your face and your tone of voice suggested that you are angry with me."

His body seemed to twitch at her statement, his tongue clicked in annoyance. "Tsk. What reason would I have to be angry with a lady? Sure, it is a little perturbed that a woman does not pay attention to her surroundings and ignore danger, but I'm not angry."

"So…do you always look angry then?" Sapphira asked, tilting her head in confusion.

"What kind of question is that!?"

Sapphira couldn't help but giggle behind her hand at him, her bright sapphire eyes wide and shinning, her lips upturned in an angelic smile. Taking her hand away from her face, she held it out to him with an introduction. "My apologizes, it's rude of me not to introduce myself. My name is Sapphira. Might I know your name?"

Grumbling slightly at her original question, he gently plucked her hand and brought to his lips, causing a ghostly shiver to run down her body. Even though he looked and sounded angry, he was gentle in his touch and movements. "I'm the Baron Diedrich."

Paling suddenly at his introduction, she yanked her hand back, slightly surprising the Baron and bowed suddenly. "I'm terribly sorry for my rudeness, My Lord. Please forgive me." Today was just not her day, what chance would she have to run into two lords...and embarrassing herself both times at that! Surely, if the Undertaker were around, he would have laughed to no end, and as much as she enjoyed his laugh that would be the one time, she wished she would not hear it.

Though the sheer feeling of embarrassment and shock seemed to easily get rid of the feeling as quickly as it came. Now that she could think and see, she felt so embarrassed that he had to save her a second time. Both times due to lack of paying attention to her immediate surroundings.

Diedrich shook his head, pocketing his hands into his pockets. "Stop apologizing, you really don't have to say sorry for every little thing and just call me Diedrich."

"Diedrich." The name slipped off her tongue with ease, it rang a nice bell to her. Returning her arm to around her bag, she knew she should be getting home, but she wanted the chance to talk to someone else for a change. The man had peaked her curiosity and had caused her body such a fuss, she needed to know why. "May I ask, what happened to the man you went after?"

"Once he made it out those doors, the bastard managed to blend in with the crowd. I tried to follow him through the crowd but I lost track of him a few streets back."

"Oh, do you work for the yard?"

Sapphira she could have sworn heard him snorted, but he just shook his head as he grunted slightly. "I wouldn't work with those nosey officers even if they offered me enough money. My fri…" Suddenly a large, pulsating vein grew along his forehead as he thought about what he was going to say, before clearing his throat to finish what he was saying. "I was just here on business when he had run past me outside of the store."

The white-haired girl couldn't help but stare up at him, her eyes slowly tracing over his appearance as if she wanted to record it to memory.

His dark green uniform clung to him all the right ways, leaving it up the mind of the wonder to imagine what could be hiding under that uniform. His raven hair that had a full and tousled griminess which promised finesse with forelocks parted to the right. He had strong sophisticated eyebrows that gave him such a serious expression and his eyelashes were so thick, that they made hers look thin on comparison. Then his eyes- they were deep and catastrophic, a vivid baby blue as a great body of water that softly melted into a milky green. He had distinct cheekbones and an angular jaw, his pale skin made him look devilishly handsome.

 _Wait…what exactly am I thinking?! Where are these thoughts coming from?_

Sapphira's cheeks suddenly kissed pink like spring rose, the blooming color so against her peach skin. Eyes widen as blood rushed through her veins like a massive flood, her head slowly becoming clouded. From the bottom of her feet to the tip of her head, oh how can she explain? Heat trapped inside only to be expressed in such a feeling that was unknown to her. Insides tremble asking for something else and only his and another touch seems to satisfy her desires, and now she feels like fire.

Moving her clenched hand to her chest, her breaths became ragged as this feeling surged through her body. What in the hell was happening to her? Exploring this feeling was what she wanted to do more than anything, but why did it hit her suddenly? The heat ran straight into her lower abdomen, tying it into an intense knot. She really needed to get back to the parlor, but with her vision becoming so hazy and her mind even more clouded, she was having trouble recognizing where she was at the very moment.

Perhaps if she consumed her mind with other thoughts then the intense feeling than she could at least get back home. Taking a slow, deep breath, Sapphira returned her arm around the bag as she focused her eyes slowly onto the ground.

"Is there a reason why you were staring at me, Snow White?"

Sapphira's eyes shot up to his face, his eyebrow arched in annoyance, his arms immediately crossing against his chest, staring down into her lost sapphire eyes, his voice snapping ever so slightly to get her full attention. "What?"

"Why…do you keep calling me Snow White?" Sapphira bit her lower lit as she stared up at him. This would be one way to get her mind off the feeling rushing deep through her veins until she got back to the parlor.

Diedrich was taken back by surprise and huffed a little at her questions, grumbling slightly as he gave her an answer. "It's because of your-"

 _Ding-dong. Ding-Dong. Ding-Dong._

Bolting her head up to Big Ben, eyes growing bigger as the hand laid single handedly laid on the fifth dial.

Gasping at the time, her eyes drifted to the horizon, the sky was pink and the sharp prongs of bare trees had ripped a hole in the clouds. Though the wound of colors of spring bled and burnt her mind.

She was late returning to the parlor.

 _Really late._

"Oh, no. Please, excuse me Diederich. I must be going now.." Sapphira bowed her head to him and started to head off into the direction that the parlor was located, but was suddenly stopped when a hand snatched her wrist once more.

"Wait, Snow Whi-"

"Please, you must forgive me. I am running really late on returning home." Without giving a second glance, she got her wrist free and started to run down the cobblestone. She was hoping that the Undertaker hadn't waited for her all this time while she was out. She really hadn't meant to be out this late; it was supposed to be an easy and short trip, but it had obviously turned out to be the exact opposite.

The warm humidity of the city made her feel sticky and suffocated. Her dress and hair, slick with perspiration, clung to her skin. Sweat rolled down her skin in thick, salty beads. She could feel her heart throbbing inside her chest. Her skin felt like it was roasting. She began bouncing slightly around people as she jogged, which wore her out quickly. She settled to stumbling along the cobblestone as fast she could, ignoring the narrowed alleyways that quickly became dark and dangerous. Sapphira was vaguely aware of a stinging in her leg, as the journey back to the parlor seemed to take longer than when she left; but that could be due to the darkened skies.

She was exhausted by nightfall. By then she had reached the corner of the street of where she lived with the Undertaker. The small lantern was dimly lit to show her which building was the parlor. Even though she was completely exhausted, a cooling feeling of relief washed over her as she walked directly toward the parlor. She knew the Undertaker was going to be worried sick about her being out so late by herself, especially this being her first venturing, but she hoped he wouldn't be to upset with her.

Reaching the door, she found the bell chiming to alert the Undertaker of her return, her eyes shut as a smile was split across her face, a cheerful tone spread across the dark, dingy looking room.

"Undertaker, I'm back! I'm so sorry that I am late! I was venturing through and got terribly side tracked by some things...oh."

Opening her eyes, her smile immediately turned into a frown as she searched the dark room. There was the three-piece candle holder lit, but that was it. The room was equally dark as it was still.

Gently closing and locking the door behind her, she crept through the front of the parlor toward the back, waiting for any moment for the Undertaker to jump out for somewhere, trying to scare her. Yet, there was nothing.

Opening the door to his work shop, she quickly poked her head and frowned. He wasn't in there.

Shutting the door, she quickly made her way into the kitchen and lit the few candles that were in the room. Putting up the supplies that she had gotten into the cabinet, and the small bag of chocolates into the fridge for later.

 _I wonder if he upstairs for the evening._

Taking a single candle, she blew out the single candles and left the candle mount next to the door alight, and started to make her way up to her room upstairs. He wasn't anywhere in sight downstairs, so it was possible that he was upstairs somewhere. Sapphira knew he wouldn't be asleep, as he had such odd sleep schedules and knew he probably wouldn't be in his room, but she decided to check there first thing.

In her first week here, he had instructed her to never enter his room and to knock on his door. She had only ever gotten a peek of the inside of his room, and from what she had saw, it had only look like hers, but just slightly darker. Standing directly outside of his door, she quietly knocked on it and waited for him to answer.

The frown across her face widen as she realized that he was not in his room, as even when he had been asleep before, he always immediately answered her knock.

Checking the small room that she did her reading in, she saw that it was completely dark.

Sighing in defeat, she immediately retreated to her room and sat the candle down on the night stand on her bed. Kicking off her flats under the night stand, immediately her hands flew the hem of her dress and pulled her dress off over her head, laying it over the chair next to the mirror. Clawing at the strings of the corset, Sapphira ripped it off as she let out a huge breath with a gentle rub to her stomach and sides, happy that she can breathe once more.

Each step to the bathroom, the more she started to strip. Her chemise was the first to hit the floor, followed by her stockings, garter belt, and then her black undergarment.

Filling the tub with hot water, Sapphira slowly lowered herself in the tub and started on washing the sweat off her body and face. Dumping the bucket of water over her head, humming gently as the hot water trickled down her back.

Lathering the soap in her hands, she couldn't help but her let her mind wonder about where her mortician was at.

 _Maybe he left with Lord Vincent somewhere and has yet to return home, but wouldn't he have left a note if that was the case?_

Moving her hands to her head, she started to deep scrub her head, desperately wanting to get the sweat and stickiness that made her hair look unpresentable.

 _Perhaps there was an accident and they needed his help with the body. It would explain why he didn't leave a note, it could have been an emergency and he rushed out the door. Though…he normally doesn't ever seem to be in a hurry, even when others act like he should be. I hope he didn't leave to go look for me…if he did, I surely would have run into him, wouldn't I?_

Frowning at the thought that he went out of his way to go look for her while she sat her and bathe didn't sit well with her. Dumping the bucket of water once more over her head to wash out all the soap; she in turn sunk into the tub as her mind started to swirl with thoughts of the man she met earlier.

 _Still, that feeling I developed earlier when I was with Diederich…it was the same familiar feeling I developed a few times from when the Undertaker would speak and touch me. That intense feeling of something swirling in my body and causing a tight knot feeling down in the lower part of my abdomen._

Her hand slipped underneath the water and moved down her chest to the bottom of her stomach, her cheeks turning slightly pink from the feeling that started to course through her veins once more. It was almost like every little thing about that man was making her feel this way.

The way he moved his hands when he talked.

The way he grunted and the bass of his voice.

When they made eye contact and she felt her face go red.

She wanted to know _everything._

Yet the feeling was slightly different with the Undertaker.

Somehow being next to him was not enough;

No matter what, she couldn't get any closer.

She need everything he could give her, she much more than she had now.

She wanted him a thousand times over, and then again.

And she hated for being so selfish for it, but she wanted him far too much to stop.

The heat from the water was becoming too much for her to bear; her body was burning from the top of her head down to the tip of her toes. Her mind was swirling in a madness that was threatening to devour her entire being. Her heart raced against her chest as her blood kept pumping and pumping through her veins like a wild fire. Her soul was teetering on the edge of shattering to a million shards of glass; with each shard of glass reflecting who she was and what emotion was taking over her.

Snatching the towel up from the side of the tub, she wrapped it around herself as soon as she stood, goose bumps kissing her skin as the cold air greeted her in return. Quickly drying herself off, she made her way back into the bedroom where the towel immediately fell from her naked form. Glancing behind her, she could see her two scars that ran down from her shoulder blades down to the base of her spine. Reaching back, her finger tips trailed gently over the scars on the middle of her back, feeling the bumpy raised areas, contrasting greatly to the rest of her silky-smooth flesh.

Her eyes gently softened at how they were stitched; it was perfect and beautiful. It resembled all the scar that was on the Undertaker's face and neck, but his looked completely smoothed against his skin, as if it was how he was born.

"Hopefully mine will become like that someday…" She murmured softly.

Dropping her hands from her back, she grabbed the simple white nightgown off the bed and started to yank it over her head, watching as the hem of the nightgown fell at her ankle. Her hand pulled her hair out from the back of her gown and started to twist into a single braid that laid over her shoulder and down her chest. Grabbing the book off the side of her night stand, she crawled into her bed and curled up into a ball, opening the book to the very last page that she had left off a week earlier.

 _Delighted to be her own mistress, Juliette spent a minute, perhaps two, wiping away Justine's tears, then, observing it was in vain, she fell to scolding instead of comforting her; she rebuked Justine for her sensitiveness; she told her, with a philosophic acuity far beyond her years, that in this world one must not be afflicted save by what affects one personally; that it was possible to find in oneself physical sensations of a sufficiently voluptuous piquancy to extinguish all the moral affections whose shock could be painful; that it was all the more essential so to proceed, since true wisdom consists infinitely more in doubling the sum of one's pleasures than in increasing the sum of one's pains; that, in a word, there was nothing one ought not do in order to deaden in oneself that perfidious sensibility from which none but others profit while to us it brings naught but troubles. But it is difficult to harden a gentle good heart, it resists the arguments of a toughened bad mind, and its solemn satisfactions console it for the loss of the bel-esprit's false splendors._

 _Juliette, employing other resources, then said to her sister, that with the age and the figure they both of them had, they could not die of hunger Ä she cited the example of one of their neighbors' daughters who, having escaped from her father's house, was presently very royally maintained and far happier, doubtless, than if she had remained at home with her family; one must, said Juliette, take good care to avoid believing it is marriage that renders a girl happy; that, a captive under the hymeneal laws, she has, with much ill-humor to suffer, a very slight measure of joys to expect; instead of which, were she to surrender herself to libertinage, she might always be able to protect herself against her lovers' moods, or be comforted by their number._

 _These speeches horrified Justine; she declared she preferred death to ignominy; whatever were her sister's reiterated urgings, she adamantly refused to take up lodging with her immediately she saw Juliette bent upon conduct that caused her to shudder._

 _After each had announced her very different intentions, the two girls separated without exchanging any promises to see each another again. Would Juliette, who, so she affirmed, intended to become a lady of consequence, would Juliette consent to receive a little girl whose virtuous but base inclinations might be able to bring her into dishonor? and, on her side, would Justine wish to jeopardize her morals in the society of a perverse creature who was bound to become public debauchery's toy and the lewd mob's victim? And so each bid an eternal adieu to the other, and they left the convent on the morrow._

 _During early childhood caressed by her mother's dressmaker, Justine believes this woman will treat her kindly now in this hour of her distress; she goes in search of the woman, she tells the tale of her woes, she asks employment . . . she is scarcely recognized; and is harshly driven out the door._

 _"Oh Heaven I" cries the poor little creature, "must my initial steps in this world be so quickly stamped with ill-fortune? That woman once loved me; why does she cast me away today? Alas! 'tis because I am poor and an orphan, because I have no more means and people are not esteemed save in reason of the aid and benefits one imagines may be had of them." Wringing her hands, Justine goes to find her cure; she describes her circumstances with the vigorous candor proper to her years... She was wearing a little white garment, her lovely hair was negligently tucked up under her bonnet, her breast, whose development had scarcely begun, was hidden beneath two or three folds of gauze, her pretty face had somewhat of pallor owing to the unhappiness consuming her, a few tears rolled from her eyes and lent to them an additional expressiveness..._

 _"You observe me, Monsieur," said she to the saintly ecclesiastic... "Yes, you observe me in what for a girl is a most dreadful position; I have lost my father and mother... Heaven has taken them from me at an age when I stand in greatest need of their assistance... They died ruined, Monsieur; we no longer have anything. There," she continued, "is all they left me," and she displayed her dozen louis, "and nowhere to rest my poor head... You will have pity upon me, Monsieur, will you not? You are Religion's minister and Religion was always my heart's virtue; in the name of that God I adore and whose organ you are, tell me, as if you were a second father unto me, what must I do? what must become of me?"_

Sapphira flipped to the next chapter to the book, her eyes glued to the page as the flame flickered quietly, it's silhouette dancing along the words of her book.

 _The charitable priest clapped an inquisitive eye upon Justine, and made her answer, saying that the parish was heavily loaded; that it could not easily take new charges unto its bosom, but that if Justine wished to serve him, if she were prepared for hard toil, there would always be a crust of bread in his kitchen for her. And as he uttered those words, the gods' interpreter chuck'ed her under the chin; the kiss he gave her bespoke rather too much worldliness for a man of the church, and Justine, who had understood only too well, thrust him away._

 _"Monsieur," said she,_

 _"I ask neither alms of you nor a position as your scullion; it was all too recently I took leave of an estate loftier than that which might make those two favors desirable; I am not yet reduced to imploring them; I am soliciting advice whereof my youth and my misfortunes put me in need, and you would have me purchase it at an excessively inflated price." Ashamed thus to have been unmasked, the pastor promptly drove the little creature away, and the unhappy Justine, twice rejected on the first day of her condemnation to isolation, now enters a house above whose door she spies a shingle; she rents a small chamber on the fourth floor, pays in advance for it, and, once established, gives herself over to lamentations all the more bitter because she is sensitive and because her little pride has just been compromised cruelly._

 _We will allow ourselves to leave her in this state for a short while in order to return to Juliette and to relate how, from the very ordinary condition in which she sets forth, no better furnished with resources than her sister, she nevertheless attains, over a period of fifteen years, the position of a titled woman, with an income of thirty thousand pounds, very handsome jewels, two or three houses in the city, as many in the country and, at the present moment, the heart, the fortune and the confidence of Monsieur de Corville, Councillor to the State, an important man much esteemed and about to have a minister's post. Her rise was not, there can be no question of it, unattended by difficulties: 'tis by way of the most shameful, most onerous apprenticeship that these ladies attain their objectives; and 'tis in all likelihood a veteran of unnumbered campaigns one may find today abed with a Prince: perhaps she yet carries the humiliating marks of the brutality of the libertines into whose hands her youth and inexperience flung her long ago._

 _Upon leaving the convent, Juliette went to find a woman whose name she had once heard mentioned by a youthful friend; perverted was what she desired to be and this woman was to pervert her; she arrived at her house with a small parcel under her arm, clad in a blue dressing gown nicely disarrayed, her hair straggling carelessly about, and showing the prettiest face in the world, if it is true that for certain eyes indecency may have its charms; she told her story to this woman and begged her to afford her the sanctuary she had provided her former friend._

 _"How old are you?" Madame Duvergier demanded._

 _"I will be fifteen in a few days, Madame," Juliette replied._

 _"And never hath mortal . . ." the matron continued._

 _"No, Madame, I swear it," answered Juliette._

 _"But, you know, in those convents," said the old dame, "sometimes a confessor, a nun, a companion... I must have conclusive evidence."_

 _"You have but to look for it," Juliette replied with a blush._

 _And, having put on her spectacles, and having scrupulously examined things here and there, the duenna declared to the girl:_

 _Knock. Knock. Knock._

Sapphira yelped as she slammed the book shut in fright, as her eyes snapping up at the sound of someone knocking on a door. Her bedroom was wide opened, as she was waiting for the Undertaker to come back home.

Of course, there was no one at her door and she hadn't heard the stairs creak like they when someone walks up them. Also, the Undertaker would never knock on the door…the man had a key to the parlor, as he always instructed her after dark to lock up if he was not home. Her eyes glancing over at the clock in her room, noticing it was only starting to approach nine at night.

How long had she been reading? She had long forgotten the time that she had finished her bath and started to read.

Calmly sliding off her bed, she softly stepped out of her room and slowly made her to the stairs, listening for the sounds once more. With each step, she took significant careful steps to avoid the creaking sound from interfering from her hearing. One hand on the rail and the other hand gliding against the wall to guide her way down the every so dark staircase. She made it half way down the steps before she heard the knocking sound once more.

 _Knock. Knock. Knock!_

Visible lump ran down her throat, hearing the knocking sound intensify, not entirely sure if it was because she was getting closer to the source or because whoever or whatever it was, was now adding more force behind the sound. She wasn't sure if she was feeling scared because she was at the parlor alone or because it startled her while her focus was elsewhere.

Sapphira breathed in and out, but air wouldn't enter her lungs. Starved for air, her heart raced at tremendous speeds, and her lungs shallowly rose and fell in time. She stood there in the middle of the stairway for what felt like an eternity, but was actually only a matter of a few minutes.

"Did it leave?" Sapphira whispered, finally making her way down to the bottom of the stairwell.

The only light that seemed to illuminate the hallway was the candles that were left alight in the kitchen, giving the hallway a very dim glow, but it was enough for the fallen angel to manage her way through the walkway.

The cold floor chilled her bare feet, sending a cold chill up her spine and making her entire body shiver bitterly.

Poking her head through the purple curtain, she let out a relieved sigh, happy to see that the front room was as she had left it. Nothing looked out of place and the candle holder on the wall was still lit and burning brightly, lighting the room in a pale glow. One would find this place to be scary to live in and would run at that very moment, but to her, it was all she knew. Growing to love the dark rooms and the soft glows from the candles, it made her feel relaxed…especially when she was taking her baths at night.

Now that whatever had made the knocking sounds had vanished, her curiosity started to run rampant. Who could've been at the door? Was it one of the Undertaker's late clients, the ones who would come by and she would be immediately sent upstairs? Perhaps it was a lost child, looking for a way home? Perhaps it was Vincent and maybe he left something? It also could have been, Dietrich, the man who had practically saved her twice today, but why would he stop that late at night? Did he follow her home? She couldn't remember if she told him where she lived or not.

The only way she was going to find out was by opening the door and poking her head outside. Surely, it wouldn't hurt if she just took one peek?

Her steps were graceful, her breathing was as light as a feather, and the fire from the candles were so small, the silhouette of her body was nothing but a blur lost in the darkness of the room.

Dainty fingers reached for the door knob, her hand grasping the knob ever so delicately, but just before she could unlock the door and turn the handle, everything went dark in the parlor.

Before she could make a sound and figure out why did the candles die out so suddenly, a single hand found its way over her mouth, clamping it shut suddenly. An arm snuck around her waist and quickly pulling her from the door, dragging her to the back of the parlor.

The stratification of security was nothing but a distant memory, and an invisible force crushed her from every possible direction. Each second submerged in fear made a permanent mark on her heart, and a vivid imagination made her wander whether it was just her mind playing tricks, like in her nightmare, or reality.

Before, she could react to anything else, the hand on her mouth vanished and the arm on her waist, twirled her around until she landed on the sofa, with arms tightly wrapped around her body and strands of silver hair blurring her vision, along with a black robe. Immediately the smell of cinnamon and chemicals filled her nose, her entire body relaxing in his hold as she finally realized it was the Undertaker who had dragged her back her.

Closing her eyes, she felt one arm holding her down and another arm, propping himself up, staring down at the fallen angel who laid beneath him.

"Did someone's curiosity get the better of herself while out shopping earlier~"

His tone was his typical playfulness, but it was repressed with worry and relief. He watched as her closed eyes looked up at him in hesitation and guilt, her bottom lip being caught in-between her teeth, as she gave him a small nod.

He had sent the poor angel to get a few ingredients, taking her at least an hour or so, thinking she would get side tracked just a little bit. It would be enough to give him enough time to speak with the Earl, but once he had finally left and she was still not back, he got worried about her.

Well, he was a little worried, at least in the beginning.

"I figured you would get a little curious and, but dearie, you must've got yourself lost to be gone for so long~"

Sapphira shook her head, which made the mortician turn his head in confusion. "No?"

Chewing on her bottom lip as her mind replayed today's event over in her mind, her voice tried to speak as the reel of film played back so fast that it had made her head spin. "I had made it to the store and gotten the ingredients, with no problem at all. As I was making my way out of the building, some man was being chased after because he had stolen something and I was in his way, so he pushed me out the way…" Watching the tight lip form on the Undertaker's face caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand and she desperately waved both hands in front of her face, hurriedly explaining the rest of the story to calm him down. "I didn't get hurt though, as I was falling, Die-"His name instantly died in her throat and something inside, deep down in the pit of her soul and heart, told her not tell him. She wasn't sure why, but when went to say his name again, it died in her throat once more. Sapphira knitted her brows in frustration, but was brought out of her internal turmoil by the mortician's question.

"Sapphira, what happened?" His arm tightened around slightly, nearly knocking the breath out of the fallen angel, making her to wince slightly.

"As I was falling, this…man, came out of nowhere and caught me, helping me back up. He went after the thief and one of the patrolman had asked me a few questions about what had happened. Afterwards, on the way home, I was lost in thought and nearly got hit by a carriage, but the same man saved me once more and we just spoke for a little bit until Big Ben started to ring and I saw the sun was starting to set, so then I ran back here and you were already gone."

She watched as his faced form a frown for the longest time and she felt bad for causing him to look like that. She loved his usual self and had a longing for his dominate side, but when she saw him like this…it didn't make her feel good. Just as a frown graced her lips, she moved her hands without a hint of hesitation and laid them on his cool cheeks, her thumbs ghosting in circles.

"I didn't mean-"

"Shush."

A single finger was pressed firmly against her lip, shaking his head as he spoke, her eyes filled with anticipation as she waited for him to speak.

"There's no need to apologize, you were simply drowned in your curiosity today, I should have planned for that, but…" She couldn't see it, but his eyes casted to the side as he thought about earlier, his finger slipping down from her lips to the side of her cheek, caressing the silk soft skin. "I had some urgent business come up that required my immediate attention and I left before dark. I told you there are things that lurk in the shadows at night that would jump at the chance to eat a beauty like you. Just because you made it home by nightfall this time without incidence, doesn't mean it couldn't happen the next day or the next day after that. Why I told you to not open the door, under _any circumstances_ , when I am not here after the sun goes down. _"_

"I had heard a knock on the door and thought it could be a kid lost or even the Earl…" Sapphira pouted.

Undertaker couldn't help but chuckle at her innocence, his nail scraping against her cheek and down her neck, his eyes moving to stare at her pouting face, trailing down to the loose ribbon that tied the front of her gown together. "It could have been, or it also could have been a devious man with _selfish_ and _salacious_ intentions and you, a sinfully beautiful young woman answering the door in a nightgown," His nail trailed down to the ribbon, pulling it lose and letting the area expose itself with rise and fall of her chest from her fast breathing. His other hand moved its way up to the end of her braid, pulling the braid out and letting her braid fall apart with each writher she made under him. Her eyes instantly became half-lid as her cheeks turned blush, her lips turning into a deep shade of pink; no doubt all of this was from the heat that ran through her veins. He leaned in a little, a smirk lacing his face as he spoke again, "you would be absolutely _helpless_ and it would be such a shame if someone like that, _broke you._ "

He moved his head down slightly, his ear pressed against her wrist, hearing her heart beat so fast, her blood rushing through veins like a tidal wave. That look on her face; the lidded eyes, blushing cheeks, and that deepening color of her lips. Now, that was the look of a fallen angel who has lost her wings because she was tempted by the exact same thing that Eve was tempted with. This was the canvas he wanted to paint. He wanted to unlock what made his angel tick, what made her sin, what made her fall; what made her so alluring and desiring?

It was obvious that just the sound of his voice made her like this; what else could he do to get that curiosity, excitement, and lust to run uncontrolled?

Ghosting his hand over her chest and up her slender arms, he grabbed her hand and pressed his mouth to her wrist, his lips pressing into her skin as he spoke. "Do you feel that?"

Desperate to form words, but her mind was still raddled and in a million different pieces, she didn't know where to start or where to end. Her toes curled as the heat spread from her head straight down to her toes, pooling in her lower stomach and forming a tight knot. Sapphire eyes searched for his face, but all she was met was with his grin and that serious tone of voice that always knew how to grab her attention. Feeling slightly vulnerable and weak under what she knew was his intense gaze that hid from her, she turned her face to the side. The hand that had taken out her braid, had grasped her chin in a gentle, but firm hold. He turned her face to look back at his; her lidded gaze met his hidden gaze, his face moving only inches from her face, his serious tone taking hold of her soul as he spoke.

"Lust, the sweet taste of heaven with a bitter after taste, of hell. A thirst that cannot be quenched, hunger that cannot be satisfied. A fire down below. It's wanting what you shouldn't have, to touch, taste, drown in the scent. It's your mind telling you to stop, but life canal, screaming, yes."

Undertaker could feel those words burn her entire being; the feeling of her body quivering underneath his touch, his words, was enough to drive her to the excitement. Once got at a taste of sin, it would forever change her being. He knew if he kept this up, she would give in to the lust that burned her body and coursed through her veins. He gave her all the sensations she needed, now that was required from her was the words he needed to hear. She needed to be the one to ask for what her curiosity and lust needed. Bringing her wrist back to his lips, he grinned against her skin as he breathed in her scent.

Lavender and cinnamon.

Oh, such an intoxicating smell.

"Just say the words, my sweet angel, and I will give you whatever you want. Tell me, what do you _desire_?" He purred.

Sapphira knew the answer to that question; she didn't want this sensation that ran through her body to ever end. Feeling her body quiver under his touch and the cool sensation of his lips pressing against her wrist. Desperately wanting to feel that cool sensation on every inch of her body; to feel that tantalizing touch on areas of skin that were covered by her gown. What did she desire from that crazy mortician?

She desired everything from him.

Yet, she couldn't voice her desire. All words that she wanted to voice to the man above her died in her throat. Was she nervous? Perhaps, but that wouldn't stop her from telling him what she wanted. The excitement, curiosity, and lust for it all had wanted everything he had to offer, but then there was something new going on in her body.

Coursing through her veins was a new feeling that was entwining with the warmth that had ran through her veins first.

It was the feeling of not knowing exactly she wanted right then.

She was at a loss for words.

Undertaker watched as her eyes widen, they were wavering between lust and being completely lost. Her silence was the answer that he was looking for in this little experiment of his. The mortician had a feeling that this may have been too soon; she hadn't been away from heaven long enough and entangled with darkness enough for that sweet and pure side of Sapphira be snuffed out just yet. Even though he had the feeling, he needed to see it with his own eyes if it was or not, and he was right, it was too soon.

Planting a kiss on her wrist, he leaned just a little bit closer to the point that their noses were touching, his other hand making its way to her face, caressing gently. "My sweet little angel, you know what you desire, yet you have no words for what you want. You, my darling, are still oh so innocent. Once you succumb to the darkness and know exactly what you want, then I will give you what your heart and soul desires."

Pulling himself away from the confused angel, he gently took her hand and stood her up on her feet, re-tying the bow of her gown. His usual giggle returned, as he patted her head in reassurance. "Don't fret, dearie~ In all due time, you will get it all. Now, I do believe you should retire for the night, as you've have had…quiet the interesting day, hehe~"

"My body, heart, and soul seems to know what it wants, but my mind…it still doesn't know what feelings are which and what words are what…it's all so overwhelming. I can't think straight…" Sapphira muttered, laying a head against his shoulder. Her voice was dejected and exhausted, her eyes fighting with every ounce of energy she had left to stay awake.

"Ah-ah, what did I tell you about thinking, dearie?" Poking her cheek with his finger, grinning like a mad man. "Thinking about this will only eat away at your mind and will make this worse. Now, go upstairs and get some sleep, you look as if you are about to fall over and become one of my guest, gehehehe~"

Gently pushing the young angel out of the room and up the stairs, snickering behind his sleeves as his eyes watched as her exhausted form made its way up the stairs and disappearing into her room, hearing the faint sound of the door softly shutting.

Undertaker signature grin spread across his face, making his way back to his workshop. Lighting the mantle on the wall, his eyes fell on the guest he had laid out on the table. Dipping his hands into the water bowel several times, before drying his hands with the towel, he picked up his needle and thread, walking around to the right side of the of the table. His fingers casting over the fatal cut that had sliced across her neck.

The victim was a young woman in her mid-twenties, her rich black hair was matted with her blood and her once lovely blue dress had been shredded to pieces. She had apparently been found late that evening by the police, dumped in the outskirts of the west side of the city, not too far from the parlor.

It was also not too far from where Sapphira had been earlier that day.

Her body was still easy to move, and the cuts on her body, such as the cut on her right arm that he was currently stitching up, were fresh cuts. He had told his contacts that she had died earlier in the afternoon of that day, most likely around two or three o'clock. The cuts on her arm and leg were not all that severe nor were they very deep. Whoever had did it had only wanted to torture from the way the blade started from the bottom of her arm and leg, and slowly was cut in an upward motion.

The final blow was the single cut to her neck, instantly cutting across her jugular artery. That cut had killed her within in a matter of minutes. Whoever did it, either wasn't very good at torturing, was in a hurry, or was simply impatient.

Even though her dress was torn into shreds, it was apparent there was no sign of a sexual assault on this victim.

Her dress was mostly like torn from her either resisting or their planned assault had failed.

Either way, this marked the fourth body that has been found in the last several weeks.

It was also these types of bodies he kept hidden from his assistance. She wasn't ready yet to see a body in this state, but he was also doing these under the table.

It was best for right now to keep her in the dark about certain activities.

* * *

"Uhm…Undertaker, what is this?"

"What does it look like dearie~ It's a horse and carriage~"

"I can see that. I meant, why is it outside the parlor?"

"Oh, the Earl sent it. He has invited us over to his townhome here in London. Hehe, didn't I mention the earlier in the week?"

Sapphira's shoulder slumped in defeat as she shook her head at the insane mortician. She could only guess that he had meant to tell her the day that the Earl had come for a visit, but between how that night went and then being busy the entire week with two young woman's funerals. They both had only seen one another in passing when they were not at the funerals and burial. Undertaker had made time to scare, well he had attempted to scare her, she had heard him giggle inside of a coffin. His intention was to jump out and scare her, the only part he had succeeded in was pulling her into the coffin with him. He claimed about not seeing her hardly and wanted to spend time with her, then whined as she clawed her way out of the coffin so she could attend to a customer.

Needless to say, Sapphira was slightly embarrassed in front of the customer, as the Undertaker had someone managed to pull loose the outer corset of her dress and it nearly fell to the floor in front of the pair of siblings who were there to pick out a coffin for their father.

"Well…this could explain why you picked out my outfit today." She mused, eyeing her dress in admiration.

She wrote a high-collar, long sleeved black dress with six buttons on each side of the dress that started above her breast and ended down at the bottom of her torso, with a wine collared ribbon tied into a bow. There was slit in the front of the dress, showing the wine-colored skirt underneath that stopped at her knees and a corset in the back that held the dress tight against her figure. She wore black stockings with a pair of black boots, which felt weird as she normally only wore flats.

Her hair normally tied up into a high ponytail was now held up in a braided bun, that was tied in the back with the black ribbon that he had given her.

The coachman opened the door for them and the Undertaker offered his hand to her, grinning from ear to ear. "Ladies first, my little angel." Taking her hand and helping her in the cart, but not before he leaned into her ear, his voice turning husky for a split moment. "I think you look absolutely _delectable_ in that dress."

Sapphira's cheeked turned red as she sat down in the cart, looking away from the Undertaker who took his place across from her, gazing out at some of the people who passed by. Hearing the snapping of the horse reigns, she felt the carriage lunge slightly, causing her to grasp the side of the seat from falling into the floor or awkwardly ending up in the Undertaker's lap.

Watching as the carriage turned on the main street and seeing the streets full of people, she couldn't help but wonder why suddenly, they were going to someone's home. The only places they had been together was the store, funeral site, and graveyard. If the Undertaker had to go anywhere that involved other people, he normally instructed her to stay at the parlor. He always told her it was because he needed her to run the business as he took care of some business.

Deep down, she couldn't help but wonder if maybe he was embarrassed by her lack of common knowledge. She was getting better at becoming accustomed to the ways of this country, but there was still a lot for her to learn.

Chewing on the bottom of her lip, she glanced over at the Undertaker, her voice only coming out above a whisper as she fidgeted with the hem of her skirt. "I know you always keep me behind when you go meet clients to take care of the parlor. You're not…embarrassed by my mannerism and my lack of knowledge, are you? I mean, I'm getting better at speaking with people and not being so shy, and my greetings have improved! I just hope…you don't find me uncomfortable to be around when people are around."

…

….

…

"Gehehehe! Gu Fu! Oh, dearie, that's funny~"

Sapphira watched as he cackled and fell into the carriage floor, his head landing on her feet, causing her to jump slightly. He was laughing as if she told him one of her lame jokes that she had learned just for him. "Did…I tell a joke?"

"N-No, hehehe~ It's just, dearie, you really do overthink things~" Rolling over onto his knees, he leaned over and propped his elbows on her legs, grinning up at her as he laid his face in between his hands.

"Overthink?"

He hummed in approval, as he took one of loose strands of her hair and twirled it around his finger, grinning up at her. "Thinking about something too much or for too long. Dearie, you couldn't embarrass me, even if you tried~" Poking her forehead with his fingernail, his tone grew serious at his next response. "Just know, anything I do, that involves other clients, I do it for your safety. If I know it's not safe and I can't assure your wellbeing, then I leave you at the parlor where I know you'll be okay. Understand?"

Nodding her head in understanding, she felt him immediately return to his seat. Sighing in relief, she smiled up at the mortician, watching as he turned his head to look out the window. Just looking at him made that heat stir in her lower stomach and made her blood run wild with a burning lust, that she need some sort of release. He had told her that if she knew what she desired, that he would give it to her.

What she knew was that she wanted him and that just the little things that he does sends her in a complete frenzy. He filled her lust for the excitement, curiosity, exploration, but there was something more that yearned for. Laying her finger against her lip, she furrowed her brows as she thought about what he could've meant by that.

Perhaps she needed to seduce him, but from what she had read…he was doing that damn well the other night. He didn't need to do much to make the fallen angel's knees weak, but she also didn't know what she need to do.

He had mentioned something one day about something else that to deal with that...

But what was it?

Furrowing her brows more, she bit down on her index finger as she continued to rack through her brain.

 _I know he told me stop overthinking a lot of things, but this… I can't help but wanting to remember what he was talking about that day he helped me get dress time for the first time. We were talking about seduction and…was it marriage? Hm, I believe so. He had instructed me that I needed to undress and change in the bathroom and to never change in front of another man, including him._

Biting down harder on her index finger, her brows furrowed to the very extent to where they couldn't go any further. Her mind was riddled with so many things, and it was jumbling up slightly.

 _When we spoke about something and marriage…his hand started to play with the locket on his hip. Come to think of it…_

Slowly losing her concentration, her brows started to let up as her teeth did on her finger. Eyes focusing on the lockets that adore his hip, it had finally dawned on her about this man.

About the man she was so obsessed with and wanted to do absolutely everything she could in her powers to make him happy. The very man who had saved her and has been keeping her safe all these months. The one who takes care of her, makes her laugh, makes her smile, and makes her body go in a frenzy.

 _I know absolutely nothing about the Undertaker nor do I know anything about his lockets._

"Dearie?"

Sapphira snapped her head up to look at Undertaker, who was staring at her through his bangs. Even though she has never seen underneath his bangs, she had picked up when she believed he used his eyes. Her index finger was still in her mouth as she tilted her head to the side in confusion.

"I've been trying to get your attention for the last couple of minutes. You look like you are about to bit your finger in half, or at least enough to draw blood. Is everything alright, dearie~"

Knowing this was not the exact time to bring up anything she had thought about; she just nodded her head and gave him a slight smile, adverting her eyes to the window with a nervous laugh. "Yeah, I was just lost in thought, that's all. So, why did you bring me along today to see Lord Phamtomhive?"

"Hehe, the Earl asked me to bring you along when he extended his invite to come visit~"

Sapphira blinked a couple of times before she pointed to herself, slightly baffled by what he had said. "Why was my presence requested?"

"The Earl's wife, Lady Phamtomhive, came with him this time to stay in London and he thought it would be a good idea for you to spend time in the company of another female."

Her eyes widen in surprise and excitement; she has ventured out more now and has some interaction with people, but this would be the first time she would get to sit and be with another female. She had so many questions to ask, there was only some things that the books she had could teach her and knowing the Undertaker's personality, there was some questions…she just felt like she couldn't ask him. As she knew the first thing he would do is laugh until the sign falls out front.

Undertaker could see the excitement that lit up in her eyes and knew that her curiosity was now in over drive. He has told her before that to tell people that she was in an accident and has lost all prior memories and that he found her lost, and offered her a place to stay in return that she worked at his shop as his assistant. No one knew the true background to her situation but him and he was going to keep it that way.

He at least knew this would make her happy and please her inner demoness to no ends. It was also going to be amusing for him to watch as well.

Sapphira nearly leaped out of her seat in excitement, bouncing slightly as if she was a young school girl on her first trip. "Please, tell me what she is like? Do I need to act different and only respond when she speaks or stick to topics of what is going on currently in London? Oh, Undertaker, I need answers, please." She begged.

Feeling the carriage come to a complete stop, her eyes widened at the sinister grin he wore on his face. The door immediately opened and Undertaker held his hand out to her, giggling as he spoke. "Ohhhhh, look dearie~ We have arrived! Can't be late now, so after you my darling~"

The fallen angel wasn't sure if she was stuck in between shock or hating the man at that very moment. He had left her in the dark, and she knew what he was doing, oh did she know. He was going to let her drown and now she was hoping that she wasn't going to embarrass herself in front of the Earl's wife.

Stepping down the carriage, she was greeted by an elder butler, who bowed and gave a calming smile. "Good afternoon, you must be Ms. Sapphira. I'm Tanaka, the Phamtomhive's head butler."

Sapphira gave a curtsy bow. Undertaker climbed out the carriage and grinned at the butler, who acknowledged him with a bow as well.

"Now, let me show you inside to the drawing room where My Lord and My Lady are waiting."

The two followed him through the small court yard and into the townhome. Sapphira was already in amazement the moment they walked through the front door. She has never seen a home so…big, at least from what has experienced at this present time. It was truly beautiful and very bright, something she wasn't very use too, as the parlor has very limited lighting, but that's to the Undertaker liking it so dark.

Honestly, if it was for Tanaka, she would probably get loss in this place and would hope to find someone…hell, she knew the Undertaker would probably leave her as a joke and then try to hug on her to make up for it.

He was weird, but that's what made her like him so much.

She stopped suddenly as Tanaka stopped in front of two doors and knocked once, stating who it was and who was here.

Opening the door, Tanaka bowed as he showed the two into the room. First thing she noticed was Vincent sitting in a chair, reading a book that he looked deep into, the same look she probably had when she read her book. Her eyes glanced over at the woman who was knitting and observed her quietly.

She was a very beautiful young woman with long strawberry blonde hair and deep blue eyes, one that almost mirror Sapphira's own eyes. She was humming quietly, she was just as focus on knitting as Vincent was reading his book.

"Hehe, My Lord, you always have your nose stuck in a book every time I see you~" Undertaker sang as he stepped further into the room, his body shaking from laughter.

"Well, you were the one who had introduced this book to me, and I must say, it is really good!"

"Heh, I know you didn't call me out to talk about a book~"

Vincent chuckled as he stood from his chair, walking up to Sapphira and gently taking her hand, kissing her knuckles lightly. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Sapphira. I was afraid the Undertaker wasn't going to bring you along with him."

Blushing slightly, she scratched the side of her cheek with her free hand as she spoke. "He was very insisting that I come out with him. I must say, I'm humble you would think of me and invite me out, Lord Phamtomhive."

Laughing gently, he waved his hand at the poor young girl. "Please, I told you to call me Vincent and I still don't know how the Undertaker managed to keep a beautiful woman such as yourself working for him. It baffles me, as to anyone who would want to be in the company of a morbidly creepy old man." Snickering at his last comment, it brought a smile to his face when he heard the mortician whine in the background, as Sapphira had no idea how to respond to do that.

"Oh Vincent, must you always make a jab at the poor man." The young woman stood up from the couch and smiled over at the two. "Undertaker, it's a pleasure as always to see you."

Tipping his hat, he grinned at the young woman as he sang. "The pleasure is always mine, Lady Phantomhive."

Stepping closer to the white-haired woman, she smiled gently as she introduces herself. "Oh my, you are so adorable! I can see why Vincent thought the Undertaker was hiding you from everyone, you are so beautiful! It's a pleasure to finally meet you Sapphira, I'm Rachel, Vincent's wife."

Sapphira gave a small curtsy bow. "It's an honor to meet you, Lady Phamtomhive."

Rachel giggled and clasped her hands together. "Aren't you the sweetest little thing! Please call me Rachel, I would rather much prefer that from someone who is in the company of Vincent's friend. I have a feeling you and I will become such great friends."

Tilting her head to the side, a questionable look appeared on her face. "Friends?"

Vincent chuckled, beckoning the Undertaker to follow him. "We will be in the billiard room for a little while, you ladies enjoy yourself outside for some tea."

Undertaker giggled at the pale faced assistant as she now realized she was going to be left with someone she has just met and has no idea what to do. Waving to her as he followed Vincent out of the room, she just stood there as she watched the door.

"May I ask, what are friends?"

"Do you not have any friends?"

Sapphira casted her eyes to the floor and shook her head. "No, the only person I know of is the Undertaker. I've talked to a few different people at the shops I've visited and when Vincent visited the parlor earlier in the week, but other than that…it's just the Undertaker who I am mostly with."

Frowning slightly, Rachel took her hands and patted them as she spoke. "Well, then I shall be your first friend, Sapphira. You need more people to speak with and be around, and I'm going to make that happen!"

Rachel started to pull her out of the room and through the townhome, leaving the other woman to wonder exactly what was going on. "Rachel, where are we going?"

"Out."

"Oh, like out back to have tea?"

Rachel couldn't help but laugh at her innocence with the shake of her head. "Has anyone told you that you are a very humorous lady? No, I'm taking you into downtown to meet all kinds of people and see all sorts of stuff, plus I figure this could be a way for us to get to know one another. I don't believe my husband or the Undertaker will even notice our disappearance." Rachel snickered, signaling for the carriage to be brought around and bringing a finger to her lip to silent the butler about their whereabouts. Feeling a mixture of excitement and confusion, all the angel could do was trust the woman in front of her. It was an interesting feeling; her heart felt warm and her soul hummed with a pleasing feeling and not the kind she felt with the Undertaker. It was more...a comforting feeling. Whatever this "friend" meaning was, it made her happy. Rachel turned back to Sapphira with a smile, as a carriage similar to the one she came in circled in front of them and a butler opening the door for the two ladies. "I do believe we will become good friends."

"Friends…I like the sound of that."


	8. Her Friend

**I apologize for taking so long to update this chapter. I will tell you what, between the holidays, my wedding anniversary trip, and my daughters 3** **rd** **birthday (and here I thought 2 was bad), unpacking and everything else...time has gotten away from me.**

 **Thank y'all so much for staying with me, holding on, and enjoying this story. I was hoping update every month or month and half, but I am learning that this is not possible. Work has calmed down (thanks to my boss chilling out), everyone is in good health (I'm at a meh right now lol) and my house…is well, my house. Getting use to everything and still unpacking…slowly.**

 **Currently, I am working on a Dragon Ball Z story, so my goal is to now this chapter is posted, work and finish the first chapter, and then work on the next one for this.**

 **I say that is my goal; however, who the hell knows. Just know I am not abandoning y'all. I know y'all will hunt me down somehow and beat me into writing. Lol**

 **SmallLittleCagedBird: Not gonna lie, I died laughing when I saw your review. Mostly the screaming part, which no doubt, this will generate another scream. Like, we all want her to give in, but we know right now that the Undertaker does not care to love her or anything, at least not yet. He is more…possessive of her right now, so I guess that is sort of his version of a relationship and love. It is going to play out more in the next few chapters.**

 **Jisco: Seriously, you made my cry…at like 630am at my job. Like a good cry. Like, a cry to get my ass in gear and get motivated to finished the chapter in 2 and half days (Work seriously slow right now, so all the time in the world to write lol) Thank you so much! For kicking me into gear and getting straight back into it. Honestly, I've been holding out to find out what the heck the twin's name is going to be, but I think that will be a few chapters. So, I will say, I plan having the next few chapters (2-3, depending on my mood) will be mostly interaction with Rachel and learning what love/intimacy is from here, how it's going to affect her thing with the Undertaker, Vincent and what he needs her assistance with, and Diedrich and their growing interaction with one **another.****

* * *

 _She was an angel in hell_

 _They all said she fell_

 _But the truth was_

 _She needed the fire_

 _She'd been trapped in the clouds_

 _Screaming so loud_

 _Until they gave her_

 _What it she was she desired_

 _One the hard ground she'd land_

 _From her knees she would stand_

 _As she waited for him to arrive_

 _And when he returned_

 _She felt her heart burn_

 _He was magnificent_

 _And he was alive_

 _He wanted to see_

 _If his angel would be_

 _Afraid of his world down below_

 _But the look on her face_

 _Made his heart race_

 _She was in awe_

 _Of the fires that glowed_

 _She was an angel in hell_

 _They all thought she fell_

 _But fallen angels_

 _Don't come from above_

 _She got stuck in the sky_

 _While searching far and wide_

 _For the devil_

 _Who was her only love_

* * *

The clouds rolled back and the mid-late morning London sun shimmered above like a polished shield, gracing, warming, and protecting anyone who lived under it. Yet the buildings dominated the land and the skyline were cold, monochrome- not a hint of green anywhere. West London was so different from the east side; elegant, peaceful, spacious, busy, and safe. On the opposite end of the city; filthy, crowded, silent, disorderly, and unsound. Normally people from the west side avoid traveling to east end unless it was for work or they absolutely had too. People on the east end often never left, and if they do get to travel to the west end of the city; it was either they were fortunate to have a job there, they had saved enough coins to treat themselves, or they travel to in hope someone can save them from their current life.

To say the least, this end of the city had a lot more to offer and show.

There was the London Bridge Station, standing proud with it's beautiful architecture and the newest train that had been revealed, people were lined up to see the inside of it before it set to take off. Behind it, Guy Street appeared as a square of dense green bushes and trees that were making a last stand, fighting back the urban spread. And all around it London crouched; gas towers and apartment blocks, endless rows of shops and houses, roads, railways, and bridges stretching away on both sides, separated only by the bright sliver crack in the landscape that was the River Thames.

Cobblestone sidewalks were filled with people, but it wasn't so crowded that they were on top of one another. No, they walked with more of a diligent and sophisticated air around them; they flowed down the wide sidewalks the same way the Thames always meets its banks. The mood of the people swirled in unseen currents beneath the dark surface of their faces.

So many different expressions on so many different faces. Happy, sad, angry, guilt, excited, concerned; others had the emotions of those one has not experienced in life and are unknown. Woman walked together gossiping and giggling, old couples held hands and enjoyed one another's silent company, mothers leaning over a carriage and gently calming their babies, men quietly walk with a brisk pace to their work; it goes on and on for however many people filled the streets of London.

It was like everyone knew what to do…expect Sapphira.

Just like her first time at the Leadenhall Market, her eyes are wide, letting in every ounce of the shining sun. She felt giddy with excitement. Sapphira's mind was drowning in everything around she wanted to experience, her heart beat furiously with excitement, and her soul reveled in the lust of the curiosity that surrounded her…but she had to wait. She couldn't sit down, couldn't read a book, couldn't even form an actual sentence. Her mind was like a butterfly, whatever distraction she chose for herself her mind kept fluttering back to her surroundings.

Then she'd get that tingly feeling all over again.

"So, is there anywhere you would like to go first?"

"Hmmm…" Sapphira bit her lip as she looked at was around her, trying to figure where she wanted to go. In all honestly, she wanted to go into everything and see everything and if she was alone, she probably would do just that. Glancing at Rachel's smiling face, the fallen angel couldn't help but feel that slight ping of guilt and knew deep that, she couldn't do that. Perhaps with the Undertaker, especially when he egged her on to the point she caves. Yet, she just couldn't bring herself to be selfish with the blonde-haired woman. If she knew where she wanted to started first, it wouldn't be so bad, but she didn't.

She had no idea where to start or where to end, she just knew that she wanted to explore this city until her mind, heart, and soul were content.

Shaking her head, she returned the gentle smile with a nervous brush of a stray hair behind her ear. "I'm unfamiliar with the area and I wouldn't even know where to start. So, maybe…" Hands immediately flying to the hem of her skirt, fidgeting slightly as she looked down, "you could show me around?"

"Then there's no time to waste, I'd be delighted to show you London at its finest." Rachel took the angel by the arm and guided her through the streets of London, moving at a pace for them not to slow anyone behind them down, but to let Sapphira enjoy the sights all around them. "I have quite a few places in mind that I'd like to show you."

"What sort of places?"

Holding a finger to her lip, she winked at the white-haired woman with a sly grin on her face. "That's a surprise and it would ruin all the fun we are about to have."

"Fun?"

"Yes, you know…something that is enjoyable or entertainment, like seeing a play or stitching." Noticing the knitted brows on Sapphira's face, she raddled her brain on how else one would describe fun, "Have you ever read a book?"

Seeing her eyes widen and nodding her head in excitement. "How do you feel when you read a book?"

"I really do like reading books, especially this one book I've been reading right now. It captivates me and...I often find that time seems to escape as I read."

"That's exactly what fun is. You take pleasure in reading and you find it entertaining, exactly how fun is meant to be."

"So, there are other types of fun?"

Rachel hummed in approval as she whisked the confused woman to one of the many crammed shops that stood tall along the cobblestone sidewalks. She didn't even get a chance to read the sign out front of the store, before her line of vision was filled with all kinds of different clothes and tons of beautiful different types of fabric. Immediately breaking from the young woman, Sapphira had made her way over to several different pieces of fabrics, her fingers gently caressed them as she stared in awe. They were black, red, dark blue, and white; all four beautiful colors that would make such beautiful dresses that would be fit for a princess.

Chatter could be heard from behind, but the fallen angel wasn't paying all that much attention to whoever the voices belonged too. She was to focus on staring at the dresses in front of her.

They were such lovely dresses; she felt completely underdress as she looked down at her dress and back up toward the display. Her dresses were beautiful, too her, but they were also worn as all her clothes had been from pervious guest that the gray-haired man had taken care of. She had never mind, because it was the Undertaker who had given them to her. She wasn't one for materialistic items, even though she would love to own one nice dress to go out in, she was very grateful for what she had and could never ask for more.

The mortician did so much for her already; it would be ungrateful to ask the man for more than what he has given her.

Lost in thought and not noticing someone was approaching her behind, Sapphira let out a startling yelp when a pair of arms had wrapped around her and groped her chest, sending her poor mind into a frenzy as a feminine voice called out behind her in a tone of someone who was amazement.

"Your figure is astonishing, Rachel was not kidding when she said you were a tiny little thing, but, "Groping her chest once more, her eyes peeked over the baffled and confused angels shoulder, her cheeks were as red as a rose, as she fidgeted in the woman's grasp, "your chest is quite the size! I must take your measurements and fit you!"

"M-Measurements?" She muttered, her brain was still a little fuzzy. She absolutely had no idea what was going on, but all she knew was this was a weird and strange feeling…honestly, she wasn't sure how she felt. She just knew it was a little awkward as she had no idea who she is.

"Oh, Gina, you're going to scare the poor woman." Rachel laughed as she approached the too.

"Your dress is worn, but I do like the look of black and red on you, "Spinning Sapphira around, she inspected every crook and nook of her body, bending down, running her hands over her hips and thighs, "Oh my, you have rather wide hips hiding underneath this dress! We need to change you out of this right now! Your hourglass figure must be flattered and shown." Gina turned back toward the Phamtomhive woman, giving her a wide-eyed puppy dog look. "Oh please, I must simply re-do her image; do you have time?"

Gracing such a beautiful face, a mischievous smile came across her lips as she spoke. "If I get to help, as I have some ideas of what we should do with her hair."

Noticing the sparkles in both of their eyes, the fallen angel wasn't sure if she should be afraid or curious, but both feelings ran through her vein. She had absolutely had no idea of what was going on and unsure if she should ask them about what was going to happen or just stay in the dark. With the glint in their eyes…it was probably best for her just to stay in the dark.

As it reminded her of the Undertaker when he an idea started to take shape in his mind.

Snatching her arm up, Gina dragged her toward the back of the store with Rachel following right behind in tow. There was one thing she knew; she was often finding herself being dragged around places.

Drawing a single curtain back, another woman stood with tape in her arms and immediately Sapphira found her corset being untied. "Alright, let's get out of this dress and down to your undergarments."

"W-What?"

Immediately seeing the girl go pale in her face, her eyes widen in rivaling with Rachel's own eyes, she leaned in with the wave of her hand, explaining the process to her. "No need to worry, she just needs your measurements. Just remove your dress down to your undergarments and she will get you measured."

"Wait, you want me to t-take of my dress here?" She sputtered in embarrassment.

"It's just us ladies here, no need for you to get embarrassed."

Before Sapphira could protest, her dress and boots were already pulled off; leaving her only in her chemise that ended at her mid-thighs and garter belt attached to her stockings. Gina was taking the tape that in the other girl's hand and stretching it around her chest, eyes widening in amazement as she read the measurement. "Bust size is 37' inches, no wonder why you look like you're going to explode from your corset, you haven't been properly fitted."

Moving the tape down to her waist, "Waist is 26' inches."

Dropping the tape down just a bit to her hips, "Hips are 38' inches."

"Sapphira you have quiet the figure and to have it hide from the world. Seems as if the Undertaker was hiding you from all the other men in England."

"Hiding me…?" Straining to turn her neck to see Rachel, curious what she was meaning.

"You see the way she's dressed? Of course, he was hiding her, he was enjoying it for himself!"

Rachel gasped behind her hands, immediately turning back to the angel with a grin, shaking her finger with a tsk, "What a naughty girl you are, sleeping with the Undertaker and not being married. How scandalous of you, Sapphira."

Sapphira was truly confused now, as she had idea of what the two ladies were talking about. Shaking her head as she spoke, a blush crept across her cheeks. "N-Nothing like that as happened…his sleep schedule is-"Immediately going silent, she stared at the two who had their eyebrows slightly raised, which even confused the poor girl even more. "Did…I say something wrong?"

"Sapphira, darling, are you a virgin?"

Watching as the white-haired woman tilted her head in confusion. "Virgin?"

"Have you not been intimate in bed with the Undertaker or any man?"

Rachel watched as the fallen angel's eyebrows knitted further into confusion, giving her the answer she was waiting for. She was a little impressed that the creepy mortician had not slept with her yet; she was a beautiful young woman and knew men would probably jump at the chance of being with her. Even though he spoke in riddles, laugh at the most inappropriate times, and slightly creepy; he had been nothing but a gentleman to her and was a close friend of her husbands.

Vincent had explained that Sapphira was in some sort of accident that had left her without all memories of her life and then some before the Undertaker found her. She had felt bad for her; not because her memories were gone or that she had to live with the Undertaker. No, it was the fact there was this glint of loneliness in her eyes and the sense of lost. It broke her heart that she had no friends, and she didn't want to be friends out of pity.

No, she knew all too well what it was like when she used to be ill growing up and all she had was her little sister. Too many women in her social group was full of gossip and always had mean things to say about others.

Sapphira was an unusual woman; anyone would be to live with the Undertaker. She knew something was different about her, but she wasn't sure what it was. The Phamtomhive knew that right now, what she needed more than anything, was someone she could trust and go too whenever she needed something.

Undertaker was running a dangerous job and deep down, she couldn't trust him one hundred percent. She was afraid that Sapphira would be caught in the crossfire and she was going to prepare in any way that she could.

"Don't worry about it, that's a discussion for another time," Rachel finally answered before clapping her hands together and another smile making its way across her face. "Now, let's get you changed."

Before the poor doll could even respond, she was swamped when Gina had brought in a single outfit, smiling. "Long ago, I use to bring in at least ten different outfits for woman to try one until we found the right one. Over the years and gaining as much as experience as I have, I can tell from a single look, your personality, and measurements, what exact outfit will work on you." Gina chuckled as she handed her a new white chemise to slip into, "I just hope my daughter can be like this once she's old enough and I hand the store over to her."

Sapphira turned her back to the two women, slipping off her black chemise, but before the top could hit the floor, she was met with two horrific gasp that caused her to turn her head slightly. She caught the two eyes wide as saucers and a mortified looked on their face. It took a second before it dawned on the fallen angel to what they were gasping at.

Fingers immediately went to her back, tracing slightly over the scars as she shyly turned back to put the chemise on.

"Sapphira…what happened?"

"Um…I'm not entire sure, I had woken up to the wounds stitched up by the Undertaker. He…found me with those wounds, but he wasn't sure how they got there. He said they were fresh…as if they had been made just hours before."

"Do…they hurt?"

Poking her head through the top and sliding her arms through the straps, she shook her head. "Not anymore, they did for a while in the beginning…" She trailed off, turning back around to face the two, "thought I get this strange feeling from time to time that something is missing…and there's a heavy but extremely light feeling of something missing. What that is, I have no idea."

"Well…they are beautiful and the scars on our bodies each tell a story, and if we survive, it shows what battles you have won. It's remarkable that you lived after whatever it was that cut you, but I'm glad you don't let it stop you." Clapping her hands, Rachel gave a closed eye smile as she picked up the long sleeve white blouse with ruffles in the front, the high-neck collar had a slit in the middle. "Now, time to get you changed!"

Helping Sapphira slip the blouse on and button the front of it, Gina came up behind her to make sure it fit. "How does it feel, dear?"

Moving her arms up, down, and side to side, she bent over slightly to see if it would rise. "It feels really nice, usually they are tight on my chest and arms or in my shoulders, yet this feels just right."

"Oh good, I was worried that it would be slightly loose on your chest. Now, to move on to the skirt." Gina pulled out a floor length black skirt that had as high waist. Carefully having Sapphira step into the skirt, the tailor pulled the skirt up to her waist, sitting it right under her breast where the ruffle started and started on coursing it up the back. It stopped right about an inch from the floor and was slightly form-fitting, showing off hips and backside, before being slightly waved down her legs. It was four-tiered skirt, that started long on the right side and slowly became short on the left side, the next three tiers following the same pattern and belong slightly longer as it descended.

"Oh, Sapphira, you look beautiful that outfit!" Rachel commented.

"Huh? I do?" Trying to turn around to see how she looked, only to be stopped mid-turn and blocked by Gina, who shook her head. "I can't see myself?"

"Not until I'm completely done! Now, time to add your jacket."

Slipping on a matching black waistcoat that had a rather large large bow in the back, and buttoned in the front, low enough to show her ruffled white blouse. Sapphira had figured it was going to feel heavy with the jacket, but it was astonishingly light and felt as it apart of her shirt.

"Awe, why didn't you go with the red? She'd look so beautiful with a bright red." Rachel pouted.

"Oh, I'm not done. We still have her hair, make-up, and add the accessories. I have plenty of ideas and I plan to incorporate two other colors into her outfit. By the time I'm finished with her, you won't be able to recognize her."

Letting out another startled yelp, Sapphira was pushed out of the dressing room and immediately sat in a chair that sit in front of a mirror, but Gina had Rachel stand in front of the mirror, as she started to take out the ribbon and work on her snow white hair. Worried about what would happen to the ribbon, Sapphira spoke up as she felt the worn piece leave her hair.

"Would you mind using that ribbon again in my hair?"

"Huh, this old thing?" Gina looked at the fragile, worn out ribbon. It had a few fraying areas, but otherwise was in good shape. Normally she would just throw it away, but the more she stared at it. The more she started to develop an idea of how to use it. Raking her fingers through the fallen angel's hair, she gave her a small pat to the head with soften eyes. "I think I may have an idea of how use to incorporate this ribbon into your outfit."

"Now, just relax and close your eyes while we do this."

Once she nodded her head, Gina went to work on her hair as Rachel roamed to shop to add to her outfit. She was determine to have red in her outfit; one way or another, even if Gina disapproved. She would just have to buy it and hide it away until they were far, _far_ away from the shop so she can put it on her. Knowing if she did it anywhere close, Gina would somehow know and hunt the two down.

When it came to fashion, Gina always knew if you did something wrong nearby. Rachel did not know how she did, but after one encounter, she learned never do it again.

At least anywhere, near the shop.

 _Let's see, I know Gina plans on leaving her hair down, so there is no need to put decorations in her hair. Perhaps a red and black hat would match nicely with her outfit…it would be the focal point for people to notice. Also, need to find something to bring out her big sapphire eyes out._

Planting the side of her face into her hand, Rachel sighed as her mind ran with ideas. So many ideas, not enough time. Originally, she had come in to pick up her dress for a party coming up, but when Gina laid eyes on Sapphira, she knew that the poor girl was going to become a doll for the tailor to dress up. Thankfully, Gina is fast at what she does and it would take no time at all, and it would be a good thing for Sapphira.

It was also funny to watch the confused woman be dragged off by the clothing expert…she laughed as soon as she was out of earshot.

Tapping her cheek, her eyes fell on a shelf in the middle of the store and those big blue eyes lit up like a child waking up on Christmas morning.

"Oh, Gina, I found something perfect for our doll!"

…

"This marks the 4thrd death in the last month and half, yet we still have no clues."

Vincent stared into the fire, big brown eyes reflecting the flames that danced across the wood with such elegance and ease. At first, he was hoping that maybe the killer had some sort of signature with the way he killed his victims or where he placed their deceased bodies. Of course, that was all wishful thinking and in hoping that maybe these killers were simple armatures. It was starting to look like he was not looking for someone inexperience in the ways of murder and torture.

"My lord, there is two things the victims all have in common."

Undertaker snickered behind his sleeve as he lifted two fingers to make his case valid, "All four victims were women and young~"

"I meant clues that weren't so _obvious_." The young earl sigh as he placed his hand underneath his chin, thinking about the previous two victims. "Besides, the first and third victim were two noble women who were both in their early twenties and the second victim was in her mid-thirties and poor."

The grin on the Undertaker's face only grew as he spun the globe that sat on the side table near the window, around and around. There was an apparent pattern that the murder was going in, but it would require either catching the perp or a few more victims showing up before one could really it. Snickering to himself, his long nail dragged across the globe as he listened to the Earl talked.

"Diedrich is currently in London handling a major theft case that started at the border of Germany and France; currently he believes the main operation is here in London. Between helping him and handling this case with both of yours help, I'm left with little time to attend to my wife."

Cackling at the first statement, the crazed mortician could not help but put his two cents in. "He he he~ So, the German dog caught a whiff of something and it lead back to his owner, how particular~" Rubbing a knuckle underneath his bangs to dry his eyes, he turned back to Vincent with only but a grin. "Don't worry my lord, I'm sure my sweet little apprentice will keep her company and entertained. She's quiet the comedian~"

Narrowing his dark eyes to the mortician, a small chortle escaped through his lips as his thoughts turned to the young white haired woman. "Did she really get into an accident and lose her memory or is that your _version_."

The once playful grin that sat his face turned into a sinister smirk, knowing exactly where he was getting at. "Whatever do you mean, my lord? I just helped the young angel out when she needed it, that's all~"

Vincent wasn't stupid, he knew there was something much more deeper to the story, but he also knew that the Undertaker wouldn't do something so insane as to kidnap a woman and keep her in his shop…at least he sort of hoped he hadn't. He knew the truth would reveal itself long down the road; he could not help but want to get a little closer to the truth. Just enough to satisfy his curiosity for the time being.

Dismissing the matter with the wave of his hand, a maid came in on que with tea for the two men, placing it down on the table in-between two chairs that sat right in front of the fire. "It's a nice day, how about we have early afternoon tea outside with the ladies. Rachel recently got over a cold and this is the first time she's been outside of the manor in a long while."

"Apologizes M'Lord, but Lady Rachel and Miss. Sapphira are not here at the moment."

Tilting both their heads to the side, Vincent raised a questionable eyebrow as the Undertake laid a finger against his lip. He told the fallen angel to stay around the house with Rachel, had he not? Perhaps her curiosity got the better of her once more and she wondered off, with Rachel following in toe to find her? This curiosity of hers were becoming most troublesome, in terms of her safety and whereabouts, but it has proven to be amusing until she does what she's told not to do…then it just becomes annoying.

"Huh?"

…

The process of changing what Sapphira had looked like had taken at least in hour and it was already pressing into early afternoon. Once Gina was finished with her hair, curled and spiraling down to left side of her shoulder, pinned back a couple of pins and a small wine colored bonnet that sat on the left side of her head with the black ribbon tied around it into a bow. Eyelashes curled, lips painted, and dusting of her cheeks, she looked to be as if she was a painted porcelain doll.

Gina made the fallen angel promise her that she would come back again and she would dress her up all over, of course, to her it was more of "she better come back or else". With her ankle high black boots, she stumbled out the front door with a bag of her old clothes and some other things, being pushed by Rachel, who herself was trying to escape the clutches of the talented tailor. Sapphira learned that she was originally trying to get Rachel to dress up for her, but the young woman decided to be devious and throw her under the bus instead. Not that she understood much of what was going on around her, and even though she could move slightly better in her new outfit, it still felt strange on her.

Gina had given them to her and even though she tried to pay, the woman would not take her money. At least being with the Undertaker, she worked for him to help the cost of all he does for her. Yet, she was sure what to do with Rachel and Gina? They have do so much for her, but she has not done anything for them.

"I don't understand…" Her voice was wavering and soft, she was really at a lost. As, she wasn't sure what she should do and a frown ever so gracing her lips, her eyes fluttering shut as she tried to wrap her mind around it all. She was starting to feel like she was drowning and she wasn't sure how she was ever coming to come up."

"What's wrong, Sapphira? Don't you love your new look?"

Shaking her head, Sapphira looked up at her reflection in a passing store window, catching a glimpse of herself. No, it was not that at all.

"No, it's just…the Undertaker helps me and provides me with things, and in return, I help him in the shop. Yet, Gina and you did a lot today, and have not asked for anything in return. She would not even take my money…so I'm just a little confused."

Rachel blinked a couple of times before she started to laugh at white haired girl, startling her slightly. Here she was again laughing at something she said, and she knew this time that she did not tell a joke. Sapphira started to believe that she perhaps just found her amusing or she was saying something wrong again…honestly, that wouldn't surprise her one bit.

Moving in front of her, the blonde haired woman grabbed her arm and started to guide her through the streets once more, explaining on what she had found amusing. "It was a gift from Gina, she wanted to have you had it. Friends do these type of things for one another."

"Gift?"

"You don't know what a gift is?!" Glancing back to see the small shake of her head, Rachel sighed as she went on explain what it actually was. "A gift or present, is a thing given willingly to someone without payment or service."

Chewing on the inside of her lip, since Gina firmly instructed her not to chew her lip with her lips painted or it would mess everything up. Trying to connect all the dots together. "So...a gift is something that friends give to one another if they want them to have it?"

"Exactly! It does not have to be friends either; strangers, family, love ones…everyone can give gifts. It's mostly spontaneous, people usually save gifts for Christmas or birthdays…do you know what those are?"

Sapphira shook her head.

"I'll explain all that another time. Shall we get some tea and something to eat? I'm becoming a little hungry. I know a cute little place that serves the best tea all around London and they have delicious cakes too!" Earning an eager nod from the fallen angel.

In less than five minutes of their discussion and three-fourths of the way to their destination, the two instantly caught outside in the sudden humid and dark weather. The sky was filled with gray clouds. It was suffocating, with dark clouds pressing in as if to crush you, and then pressing the point with a sudden flash of lightening, thunder rumbling like a hungry monster a split second later. It is a dead thing, the sky; it settles sprawls, dark and heady, overwhelming, dreary and dreadful like a cemetery stone. Sapphira did not think something so beautiful and mesmerizing could be something so mysterious and so terrifying.

"An ascending abyss, is what the sky is, Sapphira. The sky reflects our very being and serves as a lens for the yin and yang in all of us. The sky is a gateway to infinity, which we instinctively perceive when looking into it, and feeling amazed. The sky is mysterious, unknown, and beautiful. The sky is as beautiful as it is deadly, Sapphira. It can be as bright as your wildest dreams, but dark as a nightmare. It can set you free, or trap you in invisible barriers that confine and leave you heavy with desperation."

Even though she was not very sure of half the things that Rachel had said, she knew it felt right deep down. Perhaps her saying had something to do with her memories lost or it is just pure coincidence, whichever one, she agreed with it.

"Oh! I forgot I left the umbrella in the carriage back close to Gina's shop. Do you mind waiting right here for me, it shouldn't take but ten or so minutes?" Rachel questioned, as her eyes glanced up toward the sky.

Sapphira shook her head, reaching over to take the bag from her hand, "No, allow me to take them back."

Sticking her tongue out at the fallen angel, Rachel quickly backed away from her grasp and started down the street. "You're not winning this argument, young lady. Besides, you will probably get lost or wonder off if you see something that distracts you. Just stay right there, in front of that store front."

Hanging her head in shame, a sigh escaped her lips as she smiled. She knew that Rachel was right about her losing her focus.

 _She is not wrong; I would completely lose my focus and get lost in this side of the city._

Curious to her surroundings, she looked up to see that she was standing directly in front of a candy store. First glance into the store, it was not very busy. Only a couple of people lingering the store, some by their selves and others had their children with them. Turning back out to the streets, she has noticed that there was not many people out on the streets.

Group of women were standing five feet away, gossiping about what happened to one of the other woman's husband. Three men stood directly across the street from her, one seemed to stare at her general direction, but she noticed it was probably because of two officers that were standing near an alley away not too far from the group of women.

Other than that, there was not really anybody on the streets. Few couples walked by slowly as they spoke, and there were was a few men who were on their own as they walked past her. Probably on their way to work or to their home.

Staring at all of these people, something stirred inside of her, making her realize something.

For the first time in her life, she found herself alone. Watching at the skies turned black, it was apparent the storm moving in, was going to consume her small form. Deep down, she felt as if she did not belong here, that this was not her home. It was foreign to her, even with her lost memories; there was a sense that none of this was natural.

 _It's just me…_

It was just her, alone in a strange place with strange people.

"Excuse me, miss?"

Sapphira jumped what felt like five feet in the air, frighten by the sudden voice speaking to her as her mind wondered. Face flushed red in embarrassment; the young angel looked up toward the voice that speaking to her. Belonging to a man, whom she at least believed was around Vincent's age or at least only a few years older than he was. He wore an all-black suit and his chocolate brown hair neatly combed back, blue eyes following her every movements. He laughed a little at her, laying a hand gently on her forearm.

"Pardon me, I didn't mean to frighten you. I was curious to know something, a question that needs answering if you don't mind."

Curiosity taking her over and a gentle smile adorning her lips, she nodded her head for him to ask her his question. "Did it hurt when you fell?"

"Huh?"

"When you fell from heaven?"

Sapphira tilted her head to the side, the smile never leaving her lips, but her face twisted in confusion and uncertainty. Why would he ask her such a thing? From what she has read in books, angels who fall from heaven go straight to hell. Did she have it wrong? Was that not how this works?

"I do not-"

"Apologizes, that was a terrible pick-up line for me to use." He interrupted her in a hurry, chuckling at his own foolish attempt to flirt; he moved his hand from her arm and bowed slightly. "How rude, I haven't introduce myself, my name is Azra."

Delicately raising a hand to her lips to hide her snicker, she gave him another adoring smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Azra. My name is Sapphira."

"Sapphira, huh? That's…an unusual name."

"So I've been told, but I've never heard of Azra before either."

Azra smiled gently down her, grasping the hand that hid her lips and placed the back of it against his lips. "Sapphira means the jewel, "sapphire"- a precious gem of deep blue, and is given in allusion to the color of the eyes. The name itself signifies beautiful and pleasant. It has been told that the sapphire represents the blue veins of a beautiful person. No doubt, the name was meant specifically for you."

Adverting her eyes to the side, her cheeks turning from a flush of red to a rosy hue, the tone of her voice soft and sweet. "Um…thank you."

Blue eyes wavered as a small sigh escaped past his lips. "You really don't remember me, do you?"

"Remember you?"

Sapphira stared up at his face; her big eyes traced every outline of his face, trying to see if she knew who he was. Blue eyes stared back at hers, his perfectly aligned nose twitched in anticipation with a pout spreading across his full lips. She did not know whom he was to save a life, but deep down…something felt familiar about him. Not exactly sure, what it was about him, but there a sense of trust and honesty about him. Was it possible that he knew who she was? Could he be the key to unlocking her memories and figuring out what had happened to her?

Gripping her gloved hands together, she just had to know who he was and what he knew.

"Do…Do you know me?"

Before Azra could even answer the fallen angel's question, he heard a voice from behind him yell at a distance and it was directly toward the young woman who stood directly in front of her. Holding his hand against his chest, he gave a short bow, a single bang falling over his elegant face. "Our time has ran short; I do believe I hear your friend coming back for you." Seeing the distraught look on her face, he slid his other hand up her face and caressed the side of her cheek, giving her a soft smile. "Fear not, my sweet Saffy, we shall meet again. Once the time is right. For the time being, be good, stay safe and don't stray away from the light."

With those last words, he disappeared before she could even bat an eyelash. Seeing Rachel making her way back to her, her mind went elsewhere as she thought about the man who was just in front of her. She was not sure what had just happened, but it was very apparent that the man, who called himself Azra, knew something about her.

"Sorry, the coachman was trying to talk me out of walking back to get you. He said there is a storm heading in and will cause a torrential…is everything okay, Sapphira?"

Snapping her attention back to her newfound friend, she tilted her head to the side, finger pointing at the spot where Azra stood before he vanished. "That man…he knew me."

"Huh?"

"Did you not see him?"

"What are you talking about? You were in my line of vision for the last five minutes and I didn't see anyone talking to you…" Rachel stated with a crease in her eyebrows.

"There was a man standing here…and he acted and spoke as if he knew me!"

Furrowing her brows even more, the young wife glanced to the right of her, then to her left, not seeing anything out of the ordinary. She had seen Sapphira since she had turned the corner and the entire of time of watching her, she had not seen anyone speak or even approach the young woman.

Hooking her arm through hers, she started to guide her back to the carriage. "I think I've overwhelmed you enough for the day. Perhaps maybe you were day dreaming and had a slight remembrance in speaking to someone in the past, causing you to think that it was happening at this time."

"Is…is that possible?"

"Of course, I've had that happen to me before. Come, let us go back to the townhome and we will have some tea there together. We can venture to the teashop another day when you not subjected to so much. Gina might have gone overboard with you today, causing your mind to fry a little." Rachel joked, poking Sapphira in the head when she made a snicker at her last sentence.

Lowering her eyes to the cobblestone, her mind started to replay what had just taken place. Was it possible that she had just been daydreaming and just remembering something that could have taken place a long time ago? Perhaps, but it still seemed so…real. Gingerly touching the spot on her cheek that his hand had brushed against, she could still feel the lingering of his fingers.

 _Perhaps…it was just my imagination._

…

Once Sapphira had returned to the townhome with Rachel, the man that had filled her head with so many thoughts and questions had nearly vanished amongst the chaos that had erupted.

Maids were fussing over the young woman for being out in such weather; granted it didn't really start raining until they walked through the door. It was then that the fallen angel had learned that Rachel had suffered from an illness that routinely caused her to become sick with a cough and fever, ending up having to be on bedrest for days, sometimes weeks at a time. The adventure they had shared was actually one of the first days she has felt better in a long time. Sapphira felt entirely guilty about having her out in the weather with her just getting better, even though it was _Rachel_ idea to begin with.

Vincent made a small fuss about it, but relented when she told him that she was fine. Poor Sapphira, the funeral director poked and made fun of her until the point she was hiding her face behind her bag.

This was after the fact that when both men came walking the doors, they did not even recognize the fallen angel at first. Vincent was the first to realize it was she when she bowed her head to the ground and had repeated apologize for taking her out into the weather.

Earl had told her that she looked "absolutely stunning" and that she should dress more like that, Gina had a good eye when it came to dressing women. Beaming at his praise, she had told him that she had liked the clothes…just the process and hustled by the tailor was a little much. Anyone who encountered Gina knew that process all too well and if they wanted her to tailor them, they would just have to live with it.

Undertaker on the other hand…was not a huge fan of the change, only for a few reasons.

Selfish reasons.

She was _his_ doll. _His_ little fallen angel. Yes, he could not deny that she looked beautiful; the dress fit her frame with perfection. As much as she looked beautiful and appropriate, he hated the fact that the damn crazy tailor made her look like a noble. Sure, his best customers were nobles and he did a lot for the Earl, there was no doubt about that.

Most nobles could not stand to be around him, from his morbid personality to this singsong voice that sent chills up their spine. He detested them with a passion and to see _his_ angel wearing their clothes…it was repulsive.

Oh, how he loathed it so much.

She looked much more beautiful in her simple black dresses. Yes, that was more appropriate on her. Not that…noble monstrosity.

Even when they left the townhome, he never told her about how much he hated it. He simply told her she looked beautiful and that was the end of the conversation. Nothing more, nothing less.

As she did not bring up the man that she had met on the street. Deep down, she knew that he was real and that he knew who she was, but at the same time, she felt as if it was a dream. Instead of going with what she felt, she trusted what Rachel had told her and dismissed it. Not bothering in telling the mortician for she believed that there was nothing worth telling him if such thing did not truly happen.

That, was two weeks ago.

In those two weeks, two more women were found dead.

Three days after her excursion with Rachel, a young noble woman was in her mid-twenties was found in an alleyway on the west side of the city.

An officer had showed up at the parlor, urgently asking the Undertaker to come with him to the crime scene. Sapphira learned from the mortician, that if the body is in bad shape or it was due to some sort of crime, then they would usually come get him instead of just delivering the body. It was not often that they would come get him, either because no one really wanted to visit the parlor or simply because it was not bad enough for him to come.

Yet, in the last month, he was immediately summoned more times than Sapphira had counted in her time being here.

Today was one of those days.

Undertaker had left only moments ago to visit the docks; all she heard from the officer was that another body had been found and that they needed him right away. Something about a woman from this side of town who looked to be in her late teens. Truly terrible.

Part of her wanted to go with him, to see what he actually does when he has to go to the crime scene. It was interesting and she wanted to learn more about what he does. Yet, the other part of her knew not ask and just do as she was told. Truth be told, it wasn't' the dead bodies that really scared her nor the smell. It was the ones who had their eyes open that truly frightened her. It was just…strange to her.

Going about doing her daily chores, she started to sweep the parlor and dust the coffins. It never failed that as soon as she would clean the entire front room…it was just instantly get dirty again. She was not sure how he did it, but he does it and it never seizes to amaze her.

Humming quietly to herself, she started to work on cleaning the pictures that hung around the building.

 _Now that I think about…_

Sapphira instantly stopped at the photo of the grave surrounded in white roses…something about it struck her as she looked at it.

 _Undertaker has yet to tell me what this picture is about…every time I even ask about it; he just goes off topic and starts laughing. Almost as if he is avoiding answering the-_

 _Jingle. Jingle. Jingle._

"Undertaker, are you in?"

Jumping back from admiring the picture, her eyes landed on the man who had entered the parlor, only for them to light up like the sun and a smile that went from ear to ear once she saw who the person was.

"Oh, Vincent! Hello!"

Charming smile adorned his face as he nodded his head. "My, hello there Sapphira. How are you today?"

"I'm good, thank you my lord. How are you?"

"Now that I've seen your smiling face, I'm truly wonderful. I say, is the Undertaker here?"

Swiftly shaking her head with a frown. "I'm afraid not. He just left with the officer a short while ago, something about another woman found down by the docks. They needed his assistance, so he will not be back for some time."

"I see…" Vincent glanced to the side with narrowed eyes, laying his hand against his chin. His brows furrowed as he thought about the situation at hand. This was truly becoming a nuisance and he was not getting any closer to figuring out the situation at hand. Glancing back to the young woman, he could see the concern in her eyes. Blinking, he tilted his head to the side, questioning her look. "Is something the matter, Sapphira?"

"Well, no. It is just that you looked distressed. These strings of murders are becoming most concerning, is that why you looked so upset?"

"Hmm…you can say that. It is becoming very concerning."

"Since the Undertaker is not here, would you like me to pass on a message? If you like, you could wait and I can make us some tea."

Earl shook his head, crossing his arms against his chest. "Actually, I didn't come here to see the Undertaker. I came to see you."

"Me?"

"Yes, I need help with something and I require your assistance with it."


End file.
